The Last Hunter
by Matteoarts
Summary: There are no Guardians, not anymore. The war with the Darkness is over, and there is no longer a need for them; now there are Keepers, echoes of what had once been Warlocks and Titans, who maintain relative peace in spite of infighting. Hunters have disappeared, no longer permitted to explore the wilds. Yet, myths of a true Guardian who still lives persist; the Last Hunter.
1. Prologue

Death.

For many, it is a concept to be feared, to be respected. It is the ender of relationships, of knowledge, of everything that you were and will have ever been. They see it as nothing but a monster, the blades ready at a moment's notice to cut clean through the fragile string you call your life.

For others, it is but the next great step in the journey of existence. When it is time for them to shed their physical bond with the world, they do so gladly and without hesitation. They know not what waits beyond, but hope that there is yet more to discover, to experience, to explore. They are happy to go on.

Some simply consider it an escape; a way to flee from the pain of living, the hurt that comes from simply being alive. When life becomes too much to bear, they welcome the embrace of death regardless of what may follow after. For them, they do not care about meeting it prematurely, or if there is more. They only desire for their suffering to cease.

The one thing that all agree upon is that death is a universal truth; just as every being has a beginning, there must also come an end. Everyone prepares for it in different ways, but the result is always the same. No matter the person, no matter the status, no matter your wealth, riches, family, friends, everyone finds themselves in the ground one day.

But that was before the Traveler.

With the Traveler came ways to extend your lifespan further than any had ever lived in history. But this wasn't enough, people wanted immortality. To be able to live on without fear of aging, sickness, and the trivial nuances that come with being human. Boundaries were pushed further than they ever should have been, and scientists worked themselves to the bone to find the secret of eternal life.

When the Exos were created, many believed them to be the next step of human evolution. They foresaw an opportunity to live forever, and they grasped onto that hope tightly.

They were the foolish ones.

One never considers the potential complications that arise from the inability to age. As the years pressed on, Exos went from being perceived as the ultimate accomplishment to being treated as inferior. The instinctive partiality that humans have towards their own organic bodies led to a complete impression overhaul of the metallic race. From hero to zero, Exos were shunned and cast out from society, nothing more than a people of second rate quality.

Humanity never once asked themselves, in the several centuries it took for Exos to reach this point, how the Exos perceptions of humanity had become. To see the world shape itself around them, and live on. To see humanity praise them, and live on. To watch their loved ones die, and live on. To be an outcast, and live on. To have to constantly rectify the memories in their mind that they had once been flesh and bone like the organics of hate they saw before them … and live on.

There must have been no greater torture than the one the Exos endured, as they watched the entirety of the rest of their species slowly turn against them, growing more and more dissatisfied with their inability to age or fall ill. To hold such a burden would surely destroy someone, and so they began to wipe their minds clean. They purged themselves of the good memories before, so that they would be unable to compare their miserable existences to anything better. It is impossible to miss something if you've never experienced it.

Unknown to all, there were few Exos who never wiped. Who never gave in to the pressures and prejudices against them. Who endured everything. Who forgot nothing.

There were four.

Three were brought back from their previous demise to serve the will of the Darkness, the entity that had destroyed their makers, their tormentors and tyrants. They did not forgive.

One never fell.

The one never wavered in their faith for humanity to become better than it had once been. They stayed true to their belief that all could redeem themselves. And though it took millennia, they were rewarded for their trust.

The Guardians saw to that.

At long last, the one witnessed the blossoming view of peace. Tranquility reigned throughout the system as humanity reclaimed their lost worlds, as they fought back the tendrils of Darkness that had ensnared them, pushing it back until light broke through the barrier of shadows that had plagued them for so long. Finally, the Light had won.

And in a single moment, it was all taken away.

Once more, instability tore through the ranks of humanity and the hope for a better future was cast deep into the depths of uncertainty. The faith that the one had in humanity was shattered, broken after seeing how far people can fall no matter how high they rise.

You must ask yourself; how long can one being go with nothing to sustain them but hope, only to have it shredded before their eyes?

And then consider this; what happens when an immortal being wishes to die?

—X—

 _The Spark, restored._

 _The Vault of Glass, shattered. Atheon destroyed, Kaine along with it._

 _Crota, thrust upon his own blade, and the Deathsingers scattered._

 _Oryx, eaten away as his own sword-logic was used against him._

 _No more._

 _With every obstacle, every figurehead of the Darkness, the Guardians and the Light grow stronger. Their arrogance grows as the Darkness is beaten back one minion at a time. That perspective must be corrected._

 _Humanity will see its doom in due time. But attention must be diverted from the long game, and focused upon those most likely to stand in the way of progress._

 _The Legends._

 _Those six who rise up to fight again and again, unyielding and undying. Their refusal to perish only encourages its hatred further, and it decides that they have persisted long enough._

 _The Fallen's greed has revealed a new contender for humanity's extinction. The red diamonds shine bright as their tendrils and flowers blossom and spread across the winter landscape. It allows them this, for the Darkness has one last service to require of them._

 _A soul persists long after death either one of two ways; either their Light will illuminate their resting place for years to come, or the Darkness within will stain their death point with their final mark upon the world. And either, with the right manipulation, can be brought back._

 _The metal human shrieks and cries for help. He screams for a lifeline, to be saved from his destiny. Does he not know how magnificent his fate is? How honored he should feel to be a part of the Darkness' vengeance?_

 _O', he bucks and kicks as though he has a choice. He does not yet know how pure he will be made, how the ending of his life will make room for another._

 _A thick cloud of shadow pierces his body, and he gives his most piercing scream yet. It gives the Darkness satisfaction to know the agony he must feel as his very soul is purged from existence, ripped away from his own body and cast into the void. Do not worry, o' metal insect. Your body will be house to my most treasured instrument._

 _The body lies still, no more than a shell now. This time, the cloud that pierces it a swarm, not black but red with a weapon of the humans' own making. They insert themselves, bury themselves deep in the framework and breathe life back into the construct._

 _With such a vacant home available, a new soul enters its place. The eyes of amethyst flash for a moment to blue, and then are quickly overtaken by red. They glare at the crowd around them, looking for understanding. They see once more._

 _Red._

 _Red._

 _Everything is red._


	2. Dawn of a New Era

_1.1 I'm serious-_

 _1.2 There's nothing serious about it._

 _1.1 Well, then why won't you explain it?_

 _1.2 Because there's nothing TO explain. It's just a myth, some story that other Keepers have been telling for years. As far back as I can remember, actually._

 _1.1 …_

 _1.2 … You're really not gonna drop this, are you?_

 _1.1 I will if you just tell me. Everybody else seems to know about it, and I don't like not being in the loop-_

 _1.2 Alright, alright. I'll tell you. You're young, so I'll humor you, but … keep in mind, this is a touchy subject._

 _1.1 …_

 _1.2 (sigh) A long time ago, there were warriors of the Light._

 _1.1 Like us._

 _1.2 No, not like us. They fought across the solar system, against the Darkness and its armies. They were pathfinders, adventurers, soldiers, and more._

 _1.1 That sounds like a pretty nice myth._

 _1.2 That's not the made-up part. They were called Guardians._

 _1.1 Wait, really?_

 _1.2 Yes, really. Pay attention. Now, these Guardians were the only force protecting humanity from certain destruction._

 _1.1 What kind of destruction?_

 _1.2 We don't really know anymore. As you know, stories grow more and more exaggerated the older they are. I think there's even one that we came face to face with gods, you know. It's just stuff that people say._

 _1.1 Alright._

 _1.2 Well, this is where the legends start. They say that at some point, they weren't needed anymore. They must have won, or something._

 _1.1 The Star says that-_

 _1.2 (scoff) Well, don't tell the Star this, but I'm pretty sure most of what they say is nonsense. Just propaganda, fanatic preaching, and cover ups. Only reason we tolerate them is because there'd be war otherwise. And no one wants that._

 _1.1 Right._

 _1.2 In any matter, the Guardians were disbanded. It's fuzzy why, and I'm pretty sure that the Star's to blame for that lack of information. But the fact is that they broke up, and things changed._

 _1.1 Changed … how?_

 _1.2 Well, two of them were kept around. 'Warlocks' and 'Titans'. Scholars and guards. They needed them, to keep peace. But something happened, some kind of event, and eventually they just kind of disappeared. People are still able to manipulate light, but not to the degree that they could._

 _1.1 Is that us?_

 _1.2 Yeah, that's us. The Keepers. Tales say that Guardians could crack mountains apart with their fists, and use weapons of immeasurable power that nobody has seen since._

 _1.1 Hold on, you said two._

 _1.2 Yeah. There was a third class, Hunters. They were the ones that ventured into the wilds, who forged new trails and reclaimed lost land. But the people didn't need adventure, they needed safety. And so Hunters were kind of just … banished. Maybe they chose to leave, maybe they were forced. But they were gone._

 _1.1 This is a lot of lead-up for one question-_

 _1.2 I'm getting to that. At least you know the context. Now, the legend you're asking about; the Last Hunter._

 _1.1 Yeah._

 _1.2 Well, it's been said that there still exists a Hunter somewhere; one who follows the old path, a true Guardian. Someone who lives out in the wild, hiding from something. People 'claim' to have seen them, but …_

 _1.1 (whistle)_

 _1.2 They say that they come to the peak every generation or so, with decades in between. No one knows why, just that they sit at the top and watch the world as it turns._

 _1.1 That's some story._

 _1.2 Exactly, it's just that; a story. The Guardians are all dead. Nothing more, nothing less._

 _1.1 So what's with the legend then?_

 _1.2 Because people need stability, some sort of sense that everything is going to be alright. Can you imagine if a Guardian was still around, silently watching over everything? It lets people think that perhaps some remnant of a better time still exists, and that maybe things won't always be so bad._

 _1.1 … Well, if they were real, I'd feel pretty sorry for them._

 _1.2 Why's that?_

 _1.1 I can't imagine a more lonely existence than one where all of my family and friends were gone. Can you?_

 _1.2 (grunt) Yeah, I guess you're right. I wouldn't wish that kind of hell on anyone._

* * *

MANY YEARS LATER

* * *

She was alive.

Clara didn't know why she was alive, or even how for that matters. As she tried to recall her lost memories, she became more acutely aware of her surroundings.

Blistering cold wind blew across the white powder of snow that covered her body. She could hear the ghoulish howling of the wind as it swept through the trees, shaking their foliage and adding to the cacophony of her present setting.

She could feel the snow between her fingertips as she gently pushed them through the snow, feeling their biting nip against every inch of her phalanges. She dug her hands in deep, testing them, and then pulled them out of the frost once more as bits and pieces of the past began to return to her.

The whirr of her internal mechanisms was all too noticeable as she began to pull herself out of the snow, and onto the ground. She held her arms out in front of her, examining them.

White and silver as ever, protected from grime and other degradation by the ice that had frozen her. But that begged the question; why was she no longer frozen at all?

She knew very little, but she mentally listed them anyway.

She had wiped her mind of all memories except for a set of instructions and her name.

Her instructions had been to venture into the cold of the wilderness, and let herself freeze to death.

And she was Clara. Besides her name, she didn't really have any other-

"Are you alright?"

A rather synthetic voice was heard behind her, and she spun around to face the source. Some kind of device floated in the air, shaped like a polyhedron with a single blue eye in its center. It bobbed in the air, awaiting her response.

She performed an quick analysis of her vocal processors, and found that they were working at full capacity. She nodded graciously. "Yes, I'm fine."

The entity performed a small sort of 'nod' by dipping its front portion low. "Glad to hear it. The snow must have preserved your systems fairly well, I just had to thaw you out."

She looked around, still at a loss for how to continue from this point. It didn't seem to take notice, and continued speaking. "You're lucky that you're an Exo, I wouldn't have taken the chance if you were organic. But everyone knows that Exos aren't part of the Star, so-"

She looked back at it. "The 'Star'?"

It narrowed its eye a bit. "You don't know? How long were you buried under there?"

She couldn't' recall. "A long time," she admitted.

The thing emitted a blue grid of light that scanned her, leading her to believe it was analyzing her. "Your memory banks don't appear to be damaged. You must have wiped them yourself. I wonder how much …" The machine trailed off before focusing back on her and tilting to one side out of curiosity. "Do you know what I am? What you are?"

Forming her features into one of a thoughtful expression, the Exo pondered that query. "I know that I'm an Exo, that I wiped my mind and … I traveled here to die."

The object seemed taken aback. "Well, that's … nice …?"

She shook her head. "I can't remember why I would have, nor can I remember any previous knowledge about … well, anything." She looked at the floating polyhedron. "Mind enlightening me a bit?"

It seemed unsure, but relented. "Well, I'm a Ghost."

She expected to hear more, but it seemed to be done. "That's all?"

It sounded nonchalant. "That's all that there really is to me, I guess. I've heard that a long time ago, we had some greater purpose but I'm pretty young. I wouldn't know about any of that. Nowadays, I just spend my time surviving."

That intrigued her. "Surviving? Is something after us?"

It shook its body. "Us? No. Me? Yes. Mostly the Star, but we're not exactly welcome anywhere else either. We've just got a bad name in general."

"Why's that?"

It tipped its sides upward in a shrug. "Don't ask me. Like I said, I don't really know."

Well, that was a bit more information that she could work with. She decided to pry for more. "Do you have a name?"

It shook itself from side to side. "No, just Ghost is fine."

Ghost. Simple enough. Its voice was easily discernible as a young male, leading her to think of it as more of a 'he'; but the real behavior she noticed was the caution he exercised. He sounded like he was willing to help, but definitely on guard in case events turned sour. Evidently, he wasn't completely inexperienced to the danger he seemed to fear.

He floated closer. "What about you? What's your name?"

Her mind went back to what she'd remembered earlier, and she was grateful for a sense of identity. "Clara-1."

Ghost widened his eye. "Only one wipe? Man, the lowest I've ever seen was three."

It did strike her as peculiar. She knew not what she had wiped for, just that this was the only time she had. What would have pushed her to do that?

Looking around, another problem began to present itself. Since she had no real idea of what was going on, let alone where she was, she had no direction. No sense of purpose to guide her.

Ghost noticed. "You alright?"

She furrowed her metallic brow in frustration. "It's just- I don't know what to do, where to go."

He nodded. "Yeah, disorientation is pretty normal from what I've heard of Exos." He looked around, pinpointing a direction of some kind. "Well, there isn't any real civilization out here; but I know a place that might be able to help you." He moved forward a few feet, and then looked back towards Clara. "Just keep going this way, and you should find it. Be warned, you might have to do a bit of climbing."

Unexpectedly, he began to float away. She called out to him, "Ghost? Where are you going?"

He looked confusedly at her. "No place in particular, I just thought you would want to get going."

She wasn't thrilled about the idea of trekking by herself towards some place she knew the vague direction of. "If it's not too much to ask, could you help me? I don't think I can find this place on my own."

He seemed hesitant. "Look, I'm sorry about your situation … but like I said, we Ghosts aren't really a welcome sight anywhere. They might not care, but they just might. That's why we tend to avoid humanity in general, we can't risk running into someone who has a particular dislike of us."

"Please," she pleaded, "you're the only person I know. Just guide me there, and you can leave. I just don't want to get lost and freeze again."

It was true; maybe her previous iteration had wanted to die, but that didn't mean that she did, especially without knowing more about why.

He paused, and looked at her for a few moments. After a few seconds of silence, he gave a reluctant sigh. "Alright, I'll take you there. But that's it. After that, I'm gone."

She nodded her head gratefully. "Of course, that's all I'm asking."

Another moment passed, and then Ghost began to hover down the path he'd marked. "Well, let's get going then."

She followed after him, intent on getting some answers while they travelled.

* * *

 _ **A/N: To any readers who aren't on the main GND book, this story is a sequel in a series of Destiny stories I've written. You can access them on my stories page, under "Guardians Never Die". Characters and events will be referenced that you will not know unless you've read the previous books.**_

 _ **To the rest of the readers, here we are. Yes, I'm kicking off my swan song of sorts for this series. I'll try to keep updates consistent, but I have a very busy life, so you'll have to excuse me if chapters take a while to write.**_

 _ **In other news, I've created a community for this series! For both my Titanfall series and this one, I've decided to create archives of stories where characters and events from the main series can be shared in your stories. TL;DR You guys are welcome to write fan stories of GND and have them added to the archive (what would you call that? Fan-Fan-Fiction? I dunno)**_

 _ **If you'd like to do such a thing, simply access it under the 'Communities' section of my author page, and you'll be able to find the archive. To add a story to it, simply PM me about your idea/story, and I'll look into getting it added to the archive as a non-canon entry.**_

 _ **Until the next time,**_

 _ **\- Matteoarts**_


	3. The Peak

_My brothers and sisters._

 _Let us give thanks for the dawn of a new day, revealing in the wholesome gift that is life once more._

 _In these hard times, it is more important than ever that we remain unified in our conviction, ever hesitant to trust the words of those who would slander us. The Keepers are not a threat to us, only our faith. Remember that a side should always be chosen, in stark contrast to their continued neutrality. While we may coexist, it is only a matter of time before one side rises above the other; and it will be a glorious day when we look to them below, and offer forgiveness graciously._

 _To our supporters in the City, still oppressed by the naiveté of their neighbors who continue to hold the Traveler in such an esteemed position, we offer our sympathies. Remain strong, for one day its Light will not blind them from the truth any longer. They will then see that shadow is the true form of the universe, and light is nothing more than an anomaly that resists the path of conformity._

 _To the Keepers who stand firm against us, we do not hate you. We hate that which flows throughout your veins, but that is through no fault of your own. One cannot blame a child for the sins of their parent. Instead, learn to control it as we have; do not let it guide you. If there should be a master, then it should be you, and its will should bend to your own; not vice versa. Only then will you see the proper way to humanity's ascension, and how we will gain the power we had once more._

 _And to those who ignore our teachings, and instead choose to defend the Traveler still; a day is coming when you will no longer have a broken God to watch over you. And when it has abandoned you, we will be waiting._

 _ **\- Opening to this morning's sermon of the Trinary Star**_

* * *

"Okay, so you came from this orb, this Traveler," repeated Clara, trying to cement understanding in her mind. "What exactly is it?"

"You ask a lot of questions, don't you?" chirped the Ghost, still ahead of her as they hiked up the side of the mountain.

When he'd first told her that there'd be a lot of climbing, she hadn't though that he'd meant that so literally. But, for the last few hours, they'd been steadily ascending the mountain. Apparently, whatever place he was talking about was high in the ranges. It was also understandably cold, so she'd shut off her neuro-sensors a while back. Until she could exchange her nudity for some warm clothes, she didn't want to feel herself freezing in the wintry air.

It had been several hours, hours that would have gone by painfully slowly if nothing entertaining were to take place. So, naturally she'd given a few attempts to kill the time.

"Well, I need a lot of answers," she quipped back. "Tends to happen when you wipe every memory from your mind."

He gave an annoyed sigh, but explained anyway. "It's a large white orb that hangs over the City. And before you ask, the City is where most of, if not all of, humanity used to live."

"Used to?"

He gave a small hum. "Yeah. There's way more human settlements around, now that the Darkness isn't a threat."

With every response, she was given a new question to ask. "What exactly was the Darkness? And who fought it off?"

"I'm not sure. It's odd; I know that I was created by the Traveler and its light, but nothing else about it. Just that the Darkness was its antithesis, and it's gone now. As for who fought it off, I've heard quite a few stories."

Looking ahead, she could see a thin pass that connected the tops of the mountain in front of her with the one she was on. Taking a few tentative steps onto it, she distracted herself with more conversation. "And what would those stories be?"

"Well, for starters, one is that Ghosts and humanity had a very different relationship back then." He flew around her body, and she became nervous that he'd accidentally bump her off or something. "They formed a bond between one Ghost and one person who was then known as a Guardian. As the name implies, they fought the Darkness for the rest of humanity, to keep them from going extinct."

"Are we still in danger of becoming extinct?" asked Clara, ever curious.

Ghost gave a sigh of somberness. "No, but things still aren't that great either."

She waited for him to elaborate. "Ghost?"

"See, even if you guys aren't fighting for your lives anymore, it seems like there's a lot of you guys fighting each other instead. Most people try to stay neutral, but it's becoming very hard to do that nowadays. You have people who still revere the Traveler as a savior, like they believe it used to be." He scoffed. "And then you have the Star, who curse its Light and say that it's the source of all of humanity's problems."

"You've mentioned the Star a few times now," she remarked. "I still don't-"

He interrupted, opting to answer her question before she answered it. "They're a cult of sorts called the Trinary Star, though nowadays they're much more influential than a simple cult. They think that without the Traveler, humanity wouldn't have been dealt with so harshly by the Darkness. Therefore, the Traveler is directly responsible for humanity's near extinction and its current state."

As her metallic feet crunched in the snow, she gave that line of thought some consideration. "What do you think?"

He snorted. "I don't think anything. Maybe it was responsible, maybe it wasn't. Frankly, the Trinary Star could be completely right; but it doesn't make me want to hand myself over to them anytime soon."

"They're the ones hunting you?"

"Not really hunting," Ghost confessed, "but if they saw me, they wouldn't hesitate to destroy me. Like I said, they hate the Light, and I was literally created by it. That's why whenever a new Ghost is created, they're cast out of the City. It tries to remain as neutral as possible, so the people can't have us in there with them. I'm sure that if the Star had their way, each Ghost would be immediately destroy upon their 'birth', but thankfully that's not the case."

"So let me get this straight," she said. "Most of humanity is pretty neutral regarding the Traveler, but there are those who both revere it and hate it. But who enforces anything? If these 'Guardians' aren't around anymore, who defends anything?"

"That would be the Keepers," replied Ghost. "They're able to use the light, like Guardians once could. But they don't fight for or against the Traveler, they just try to keep people from killing each other. As it is, they don't fight the Star unless it provokes them or antagonizes a settlement. In turn, the Star doesn't push its luck, and they keep to themselves most of the time. That doesn't mean they don't hold any power; they just prefer working behind the scenes."

He looked around at the swirling wind and snow around them. "But, the temperament of both sides has … escalated, as of late."

He'd placed a bit of emphasis in his wording, suggesting to her that perhaps the situation was more dire than he was letting on. "Why?"

"Just some old legend, a story." He looked at her, his blue eye glowing through the mist and fog that shrouded the mountaintop. "But, sometimes stories have a bit of truth to them. Or people like to believe they do."

"What story would this be?"

"Some people think that there's still a Guardian around, a _real_ one, not the diluted forms of one like the Keepers. And what's more, it's a Hunter."

"I don't know what that means," she admitted.

He twirled in the air contentedly. Obviously, he wasn't as opposed to conversation as he'd let on. "Well, Keepers nowadays are made up of what people used to call 'Warlocks' and 'Titans', scholars and guards. But there was a type of Guardian called a 'Hunter' that didn't help with security; instead, they were explorers who ventured off into unknown places, taking risks in the wild in exchange for potential territory. But once humanity effectively restricted themselves here on Earth, they were … well, they disappeared."

"So, it's a story on top of stories," she concluded. "A legend that may or may not be real, that's based off of these 'Guardians' that may or not be real either."

Ghost chuckled. "Yeah, there's definitely a lot of speculation when it comes to this sort of stuff. But there might be some truth to this one. In fact, that's the only reason why anybody's even remotely anxious."

"Really?"

"Like I said, this is all speculation," the Ghost iterated, "but there's some evidence to support the existence of this individual. For starters, the sightings are usually reported all around the same time. Sure, you get people who say that 'they've seen the Last Hunter', but the number really spikes at specific times. And then there's the correlation between the sightings and some unusual data."

She tilted her head. "Data?"

"There's still a lot of sensors that the City uses to monitor the planet. Now, we Ghosts can tap into these sensors at different relays spread throughout the different continents, and we can access the readings. And," he said with some warmth in his voice, "we Ghosts haven't entirely resigned ourselves to the life we currently live. Apparently, there are a few of us who want to change things, and they love the idea that there's still an original Guardian around. So, they go about trying to prove what they can."

Something appeared on the right side of her vision, and she freaked out a moment before the Ghost calmed her down. "Don't worry! I'm just superimposing a few charts into your optics."

Now that she understood what it was, she relaxed. The Ghost continued to explain the meaning behind it. "See, that's a timeline of the last few decades. Each dot is a claim that someone has made in regards to seeing the Last Hunter. Notice how they clump up in some odd years?"

She saw what he was talking about; while there were some interspersed through years at random, there were larger collections of them in the same relative time over a number of years. They didn't seem to have any pattern in which year they appeared, just that more sightings were reported. No more than one or two in any other year, but those spots would jump up to ten or so. Quite unusual, if it was truly nothing.

"Now, this is where it gets serious," said the Ghost in an excited tone. "See, remember the sensors we have access to? Well, one of the data points deals with temporal anomalies, or time distortions."

She jerked her head back in surprise. "Well, this suddenly became very complicated."

He ignored her. "Obviously, these sensors were put into place for a reason. Especially ones that have to do with temporal energy. No matter how many times the Star claims they hold no truth, there's just no reason why humans would have put them there if they weren't aware of these anomalies existing." He hovered in front of her as they walked. "Now, these are the data points for when bigger concentrations of temporal energy are recorded."

He overlaid a second chart on the existing one, this time with squares instead of dots. "And if you line them up with sightings that happened in the same year …"

The single dots that had no purpose or weight disappeared from the chart, but the clusters of ten or so at a time remained. What was more, they aligned perfectly with the years that temporal anomalies had been present. "The last alignment like that was almost seventy years ago, way before any information about this was being leaked by Ghosts."

She nodded her head as the charts disappeared. "Okay, so there's some evidence to suggest that they exist. But why's that riling so many people up?"

"Because," said the Ghost, sounding like he was grinning, "additional anomalies were recorded and leaked just over two weeks ago."

Her eyes widened slightly as it dawned on her. "You mean …"

"Yeah. If the Last Hunter _is_ real, they're going to be appear soon."

"I'd imagine that's a pretty exciting prospect."

"Understatement of the century right there."

She gestured to the air around them. "Well, do you guys have any idea where they're supposed to be? Where anyone's going to see them?"

"Yup," he replied happily, "we're almost there."

—X—

She wasn't exactly sure what she'd been expecting, but it hadn't been this.

They walked through structures built onto the mountain, ruins of some ancient purpose that had long since been fulfilled. Evidently, they hadn't been completely forgotten; snow had not covered them, which meant that they were taken care of to some degree. Was there activity here?

"Is this the place?" she asked Ghost curiously. He pulsed slightly.

"No, this is just an old observatory that was … repurposed," he decided upon. "Now, it's more of a common area for those who aren't actively in the temple. But nobody's over here right now, I'd imagine that they're all talking up ahead."

"Temple?" she questioned, but she didn't have to wait long for an answer. Looming suddenly out of the fog was a set of large doors, heavy and unyielding. Emblazoned on them was an emblem of some kind; it appeared to be two gauntleted fists gripping an double-bladed axe, all of which was overlaid on a shield.

"Yes, this used to be a temple of significant importance centuries ago. Welcome to Felwinter peak."

With a loud groaning noise, the doors began to suddenly open towards them. Taking a defensive stance, Clara shifted herself subconsciously, waiting to see whether to fight or flee. Ghost moved back a bit, and subtly hovered closer to her for protection.

Behind the door, someone stood waiting for them. The wore metal armor that looked much like a knight's, with a helmet that matched. Only two black holes had been left for eyes, the rest was a single face-plate. Draped over their shoulders was a wool cape, heavy and fluttering every so slightly in the wind.

Once the massive entrance was free of any obstacles, they stepped forward cautiously.

"Most people are here for the gathering, but I take it that's not the case with you …?" they inferred cautiously. It was a man's voice, rough but not menacing.

"The gathering?" asked Ghost. One look from the man in his direction, and darted back behind Clara. Still, he answered the Ghost's question.

"A lot of people have been showing up here in light of the stuff your kind have been releasing to the public," he muttered to the polyhedron. "Can't ever remember a time when it's been this busy here, so thanks for making my job harder."

Clara decided to answer in place of Ghost's silence. "He found me frozen out in the wild. I don't know much about anything at the moment, other than I wiped my memory beforehand. As you can understand, I'm a little disoriented and I just want to find somewhere safe."

He looked her metallic form up and down, realizing that she was 'naked'. "Not a problem." Reaching one hand up, he unfastened the cape from his armor and held it out to her. "Here, I'd imagine that you want to be warm … as well as uh, cover up a bit."

She took the garment gratefully, and wrapped it around her form. Turning her neuro-sensors back on, she was stunned into silence by the frozen ground beneath her feet; but the cape was indeed quite warm. She nodded in thanks.

"Come on," he said, gesturing for her to follow. "I'm sure we've got some spare sets of garments in the temple."

She hurried after him as he led her across a wooden bridge, also swaying from side to side in the breezy altitude. She had a momentary fear that it might tip or fall, but the man didn't seem too worried, so she followed his example. Behind her, Ghost cautiously trailed behind.

"I'm Dirk, one of the Keepers around here," he said. "Anyone gives you trouble, just come to me. They shouldn't, but we got a lot of people I don't know here. Better safe than sorry."

"Are they all here for the Hunter?"

Dirk turned to look at her. "So you do know a bit, huh?" He snickered. "Yeah, they are. And they're all gonna be mighty disappointed, too. I've been here for nearly twenty years now, never seen anything along the likes of 'the Last Hunter'." He shook his head frustratedly. "I've also never seen a crowd this large here, so it's gonna be a real pain in the ass trying to get them all to go home."

Now on the other side of the bridge, she understood why. Ghost's data had indicated that a maximum of maybe ten or so people were here at any given time; but she could see that that number had been easily surpassed. There had to be more than a hundred people around the courtyard, though she couldn't be sure of an exact number.

"Some of them are Keepers from other provinces, others are just citizens that are here to decide for themselves if it's true or not," Dirk explained.

"How long have they been here?" she asked in awe.

"Earliest one was about a week ago, most came in the last three days or so. They all mind their own business for the most part, and go back to sleep in their ships, or on the ground if they don't have one. Had one bastard who came here on nothing but a sparrow and a ripped tunic." He shook his head while chuckling.

In the center of the courtyard was a fire pit, one that she eagerly walked towards. Here, the ground was thawed and the air was hot. She gave a content sigh of pleasure as the rest of her warmed up as well.

He stood beside her, laughing at her behavior. "Every time, I swear. It's a good thing we keep this thing lit, or we'd have people after our blood. It's much colder up here than people think."

Walking away, he called to her. "Come up the stairs when you're done, I'll find a fresh change of clothes for you." He ascended the stairs, and disappeared from site behind the lip of a ledge above her.

She nodded, and continued to hold her hands out to the fiery embers, allowing them to fill her with much needed heat. Next to her, Ghost looked around awkwardly.

"I thought you wanted to leave?" she remarked teasingly. He looked at her.

"Well, I mean … I feel invested, I can't just leave you."

She gave him a deadpan look. "You want to see if the Last Hunter is real, don't you?"

"I want to see if the Last Hunter is real."

She laughed. "Well, I'd be lying if I said I was disappointed. Happy to have you here, Ghost."

"Happy to be here," he replied chirpily.

Together, they watched as the flames danced around in the bitter winter frost.


	4. Verity Revealed

" _They're waiting for you, you know."_

" _Let them."_

" _Don't you understand how important this is? This isn't like the others, I've seen the reports, how tense both sides are getting-"_

" _I don't care."_

"…"

" _I'm not ready."_

" _But you are-"_

" _Not because of any inability. Because I choose not to be ready. I've played my part, I've done my work. Now, the world can take care of itself."_

" _That's the point, it can't take care of itself. Humanity needs guidance. I'm not going to budge on this-"_

" _Neither am I. I'm not going for their sake, I never have. It's taken a long time to see that everyone only looks out for themselves. The people and their behavior are a product of their own making. If they didn't want me, then they won't have me. I'm perfectly content to abide by their doctrine, and take care of myself."_

" _You can't afford that line of thinking, not anymore. The Trinary Star won't be content to leave you be once you go through with this. War will come, and people will be choosing sides."_

"…"

" _Make sure they're on the right one."_

"… _I wish I knew which one was right anymore."_

 _ **\- Mystery transmission heard on an unsecured communications channel**_

* * *

Clara walked down the steps of the temple with Dirk at her side, and a newfound appreciation for winter wear. The boots, fur vest, and coat she wore were more than enough compensation for the cold temperatures. Outside, mist seeped in around the courtyard and provided a layer of fog that hindered clarity. Due to this, a glow-like aura could be seen whenever an Exo was looking at you, emitting from their vibrantly colored eyes. This was true for her as well, small blue spotlights shining out into the fog like a lighthouse. Ghost followed behind them as she talked with Dirk.

"So, why has this gotten everyone so anxious?" she asked. "I mean, it doesn't seem like a big deal to me. Then again, I'm a bit of a newcomer to this world you occupy, so maybe I don't see the full picture."

He nodded. "Well, it mostly has to do with the Trinary Star. See, they've been claiming for years that this is nothing but a story, which I believe as well. Thing is, that cult has been around since the Traveler was still in power. They've always hated it, and in turn, its Light and any who wield it."

He held out a hand, and a small ember appeared in the center with no visible source. "As a Keeper, I'm a bit more in tune with it than a normal civilians. I've heard theories that it's like radiation fallout, where prolonged exposure to Light has mutated us to be more adaptive with it." He clenched his fist, and the flame extinguished. "Either way, I can't do much with it, but it helps from time to time. Now, these 'Guardians' of which the Last Hunter is supposed to be one, are despised by the Star. They think of those legends like they were demons, and the Traveler was the devil. So, they understandably try to suppress any mention or remembrance of them, and they've got a lot of influence to do it."

They arrived at the fire pit, and Dirk looked around at the crowd, many of them talking with one another as others wandered aimlessly. "The rest of humanity doesn't really care about what we used to be, or what the Traveler once did. But there are some who still praise the Light and all that, and they heavily resent the Star. They call themselves the Seven Seraphs, and they go back a long ways too. But they're not nearly as big as the Star, and they don't have any real records of what truly happened all that time ago, so they're just about as much in the dark about everything as we are."

He placed a hand on his chest plate. "Now, as Keepers, we try to stay neutral. We may be low-level versions of these 'Guardians', whoever they were, but our job is just to keep the peace. If either side ends up attacking the other, that's where we step in. Humanity is far too endangered already, we can't have ourselves killing one another."

She gazed around at the plethora of people as well, some dressed like Dirk, some appearing to be nothing more than average people who had come for the opportunity of a lifetime. "So, most people are here because they want to see if it's true … the Star is angry at the idea that a Guardian might still be alive … and the Seven want this Hunter for what?"

"Well, my guess is that they'd like them as a source of history," he mused. "I mean, if you had someone who knew what really happened, things could definitely sway in your favor. You could gain a lot of influence, maybe start making changes in big ways." He hummed thoughtfully.

That sounded a lot like the Seven wanted to take the Star down, and vice versa. The Keepers were the only ones stopping that from happening, but if this Hunter was real … Clara had a feeling that peace wouldn't be an option for long.

"Best thing we can hope for," Dirk continued, "is that this is a no-show and everything just goes back to normal. Honestly, the idea that some kind of ancient-"

He fell silent as a loud metal groan could be heard from the direction of the bridge, towards the doors. Some others began to fall quiet too, looking interestedly over at the source of the noise. There, Clara saw that the heavy set of doors was opening to allow a new arrival.

Someone could be seen standing there, waiting for the doors to stop moving. They finally ceased their movement, and Dirk grunted. "I've got to go greet them, probably another person here for the gathering …"

Clara had a peculiar feeling about what was about to happen, and she decided to watch carefully.

Ghost materialized, and followed her gaze. "That fellow looks … unusual."

Dirk stopped at the bridge, and called out to the stranger. "You here for the gathering? We're a bit packed, but just make sure that-"

Without making a sound, the individual began walking forward. Not menacingly or in a way meant to intimidate; just with the gait of someone who had a particular destination in mind. As they walked closer across the bridge, Clara could see more specific details.

They seemed to be of fairly decent build, shorter than Dirk but in no way physically deficient. It was obviously a man by the lack of more prominent physical traits. Their garb was primarily white and black, great camouflage amongst the snowy terrain that surrounded Felwinter Peak.

They wore a hauberk with stitched padding over their chest, and a fur-padded strap that stretched from their left shoulder to the right side of their waist. Leather boots covered their legs up to their knees, and their arms seemed to be wrapped in layers of torn fabric. On their shoulders were white plates of metal, intricately crafted and obviously of high quality in stark contrast to the rest of their garments.

They had stopped in front of Dirk, impeded by the latter's position at the other end of the bridge. As they looked into his face, she saw that they wore a unique helmet; it had two eyes and a wickedly beautiful design of a mouth engraved into it, the middle and sides sharpening into points. Draped around them was a hooded cloak, a tuft of fur surrounding the shoulders and neck like a scarf while the rest of it draped behind them, long and tattered with scars. The hood above their head cast a shadow into the front of their helmet, only intensifying the intimidation that everyone felt while staring at them.

"Who are you?" Dirk asked cautiously. At the moment, it seemed like he thought this person was just here to cause trouble.

The stranger gave no answer, but a faint noise not unlike a hiss of modulation could be heard behind him, and a familiar object floated into view.

"That's a Ghost," Ghost whispered. "He has a Ghost."

Everyone else in the courtyard fell silent, evidently realizing what exactly was transpiring. The magnitude of the situation could not have been more apparent.

"It's him," Clara breathed. "The Hunter's real."

Dirk seemed to be at a loss for what to do. He had blatantly stated his disbelief in such a tale, but the proof of the Last hunter's existence was standing right in front of them. They looked toward Dirk's feet for a moment, and then back to his face. The message was clear.

Dirk stepped back hurriedly, allowing the Hunter passage. They said nothing, but finally moved forward again. Slowly, they walked through the ranks of people in the courtyard as their Ghost followed behind them. Everyone parted before them, giving them space to move freely. The chatter and speech that had occupied the air mere moments before had now been reduced to nothing. The tension everyone felt was more than enough expression for them.

There was an aura around them, almost a tangible force that she could sense around him; it commanded respect from those around him, yet she felt that he did not truly care. It was not prestige he desired, but he received it anyway.

He continued up towards the fire, standing in front of it for a moment. He bowed deeply in respect to it, though for what purpose, Clara hadn't the foggiest idea. Perhaps this site was of importance to him? In any matter, he disregarded the stares and unblinking gazes that tracked his every move, and paid attention to no one.

That is, until he passed by her.

As he walked away from the fire towards the stairs of the temple, he stopped and looked at her. She was petrified, bewildered as to why she was of such interest. Then his head snapped towards the humming noise she heard to the right of her, and she realized that he was now staring at Ghost.

The Hunter's own Ghost floated forward a few inches as everyone watched, and looked at its counterpart curiously. Ghost seemed shocked by the attention, and he had completely frozen in mid-air. After a few moments, it moved back in line with its companion, and he broke his gaze away from her.

Up the stairs he travelled, and then to the left towards a minimally marked path up the mountain. Without hesitation, they began to make the journey to the top, silent as they did so.

It was a few moments before he disappeared from sight as he climbed, and even longer before anyone spoke.

"So," Clara stated dryly, "it would appear that the Last Hunter is real."

"Yeah," mumbled Ghost in a very small voice, "it appears so."

—X—

Every gust of air that skirts its way around the mountain threatens to throw him off, and send him plunging to the ground far below.

He can't help but feel that it wouldn't be an altogether unwelcome outcome.

Silent for the entirety of his journey's duration, he makes his way upward. Jumping across gaps in the rocks, using handholds whenever necessary, even scaling a small section of the side that had become nearly vertical since the last time he'd ascended this mountain.

The Ghost next to him says nothing. There's nothing to say that hasn't been said.

As he climbs, however, something that hasn't happened in a very long time begins to take place.

He thinks of someone else.

Most of these days, his time was spent keeping to himself and staying away from the settlements. He looked out for his own sake, no one else's. But that Exo … she and the Ghost behind her had intrigued him for far longer than he usually entertained the thoughts of others in his mind. Those blue eyes, the white and silver plating …

Shaking his head, he swiped those thoughts aside. It was of no matter. She was just another Exo of many, not worth the energy he spent thinking about her. But still, something gnawed at him, persists in his mind. There was something about her …

His musings were cut short by his realization that he made it to the top. Gripping the edge of a rocky outcrop, he heaved himself onto the much wider and open space that awaits him. Here, near the tip of Felwinter Peak, was his destination. Walking onto the ledge, he inhaled a deep breath and releases it. It's been a very long time since he was last here. Ironically, time was something he had no want for, but he had far too much of it.

Unfortunately, that might not be the case much longer. He'd been seen by a few people, yes, but there were far too many down below to escape detection. They all saw him, were all witnesses to his existence. He growled as he pondered that maybe his Ghost was right; the Star would not rest until they found him, now that he'd inadvertently proven his actuality.

Opting to worry about that later, he sat down and waited patiently. His arrival was timely, and she'd certainly never missed a meeting.

Indeed, it was mere moments before an entity began to materialize. An orb of blue light, hovering above the ground ever so slightly. He watched as it pulsed, and slowly began to take shape-

A sound interrupted his thoughts, and he quickly looked away from the mountain. With the sound waves bouncing everywhere throughout the mountain range, it was difficult to triangulate the source; but he finally pinpointed something which aligned with the sound he'd heard.

The sound of a dropship's engines.

It was a Hawk model, something he actually recognized. Technology hadn't advanced much in the many years past, admittedly, but it was still a confirmation of what he feared.

The Trinary Star was here.

* * *

 _ **A/N: For any who are confused about where this is going, the only hint I can give you is this; re-read the chapters "Incarnation" and "Tooth and Claw" from the fourth book. There are parts of them that will be addressed very soon, and maybe you'll see where I've been leading up to this whole time.**_

 _ **With me, I'm always playing the long game.**_

 _ **Until the next time,**_

 _ **\- Matteoarts**_


	5. Ultimatum

" _Tell me you love me."_

" _I love you."_

" _I know."_

" _Then why-"_

" _Because I'll never get tired of hearing you say it."_

" … "

" … _I know that look. What are you thinking?"_

" _I'm worried."_

" _Why?"_

" _Times are changing. Political attitudes are shifting, people are becoming restless. And you can't really blame them, I mean look at how many threats humanity's had to deal with in the last decade alone. I feel like we're fighting two wars; one with the Darkness, and one with the City."_

" … "

" _And this rising cult, this 'Trinary Star' group. They're growing bigger and bigger by the day. What if everyone starts following them? If the Light becomes just as abhorrent an idea to them as the Darkness? What happens to us then?"_

" _I don't know. None of us can know, these are answers that I hope we never get. I wish we didn't even have to ask these questions, but it's the reality of the world we live in."_

" … "

" _Hey, look at me. No matter what happens, no matter what we go through, we'll always have each other."_

" _You got that right."_

" _I'm always right."_

" _I love you."_

" _I know."_

* * *

Everyone around the courtyard was abuzz with excitement. Some laughed, some spoke in whispered tones, and some were just silent with awe. At long last, there was definitive proof to the Last Hunter's existence, and everyone here had been a part of it.

Dirk walked numbly back to Clara, and took his faceplate off. Underneath the mask was a grizzled beard and a slightly open jaw. Evidently, he was in shock of what had just happened.

She looked at him seriously. "You alright?"

He closed his mouth, then nodded slowly. "Yeah, I just … wow."

Ghost flitted about happily. " 'Wow' is right! I can't believe it, he's real! He's actually real!" He stopped for a moment, and faced her. "And he looked at us, his Ghost looked at me! It's so much to take in!"

His comment gave her pause. Why _did_ he look at them so strangely? He hadn't paid attention to anyone else in the courtyard but her and Ghost. Was it because they reminded him of himself? According to the stories of those Guardians after all, they were people and Ghosts who formed bonds with each other. She didn't think that Ghost and her had that kind of bond, but maybe the Hunter had wondered.

That was another thing. "So if he's real …" she slowly spoke, "does that mean that Guardians were real? The Warlocks, the Titans, everything?"

Dirk let a whoosh of air escape his lips, dumbfounded at the stunning realization. "I mean … I guess they'd have to be. But that doesn't make any sense to me."

"How so?"

He furrowed his brow. "Well, apparently a 'Guardian', or at least this one, can live for quite awhile. I mean, the last sighting was forty years ago, and these sightings have been stretching back to as far as two centuries ago."

She still didn't get it. "So?"

"So," he explained, "if they're so damn resilient, then where did they all go?" He shook his head. "I can't believe logically that so many warriors and individuals like them would just disappear … unless something made them."

That thought was a disturbing one. "If something made them? But what could do something so big like that, without anyone knowing the truth?"

A roar of engines caught their attention, and they looked skyward to see a large dropship approaching. It circled around the area, searching for a proper place to set down. On its side, she could see some kind of emblem painted onto it. It was a gold skeleton of a deer standing upon a similarly colored upside-down triangle. Behind it, there was just a large splotch of blue to make the gold stand out.

Dirk's mouth set in a thin line. "I'm starting to get a good idea."

"Who is that?" she asked, getting the idea that this dropship was of importance to him.

"That," he muttered, "is the mark of the Trinary Star. They wouldn't be here unless they got the news somehow." He looked around at the mass of people in the crowd. "I'd be willing to bet a few of these people belong to one faction or another."

"You mean the Seven and the Star?" she whispered.

He nodded. "Yeah. I think things are about to get pretty hairy in here." He motioned to her. "You stay behind me, alright?"

She crossed her arms. "What, you think I need protection in a fight?"

"Yeah," he blatantly stated, "I do. If you really did wipe any knowledge of these guys, then it means you don't know how bad they can be."

She didn't like the tone he had in his voice; it was one of fear. She decided that maybe it was wiser to listen.

Slowly, the dropship lowered itself until it was roughly fifteen feet above the courtyard's entrance, right where the bridge ended. As she watched, several individuals materialized from thin air below. They wore monotonously colored armor, white and grey only. The actual shape of it seemed to mirror that of Dirk's, bulky and giving off the appearance that they were strongly built. But the design was different, theirs seemed more artificial and streamlines than his rough 'n tough style.

In each of their hands, they held automatic rifles. Whether they shot energy or ballistics, Clara didn't know. Either way, they'd probably be more than proficient enough at their job.

Beside her, Dirk gave a growl. "Those aren't Keepers, they're enforcers of the City. They're only supposed to look out for the City's own interests, they have no business being here … unless their loyalties are really to someone else." He gave a sad sort of sigh. "I can't believe that it's so clear now, that this is actually happening."

"What do you mean?" she asked worriedly. He sounded like a man who had resigned himself to something horrific. "What's happening?"

He looked at her utmost seriousness in his eyes. "The Seven are probably not far behind, and things are going to get complicated. No matter what happens, stay safe. Don't do anything stupid, you hear?"

Nervously, she gave a small nod of confirmation that seemed to satisfy him. "Alright then. Here we go."

One final man materialized below the ship, and she could see instantly that this person was the leader. They wore a heavy black cloak that covered all of their back, and most of their front. But it split at a seam in the center of their chest, and she could see gold and blue colored armor beneath, the same colors of the Star's emblem. There was no hood to this cloak, but they didn't need one; for a helmet, they wore an intricately crafted model of a deer's skull sans the antlers. Its black eye sockets seemed to stare deeply into Clara's own eyes, judging her.

They walked forward, accompanied by the rest of their guard. Dirk gave a deep breath, then moved forward to meet them. Clara followed closely. Ghost had disappeared completely, and she expected that he was hiding from the Star.

Hopefully he'd be safe from whatever happened next.

—X—

The form in front of him had finally taken shape. A glowing humanoid figure, shining with blue light. Their features weren't visible, just hazy approximations. But that was more than enough for him.

Finally, the Hunter spoke.

"It's been awhile."

The entity had no reaction other than a sad sigh. _**Every time I see you, you appear more broken.**_

He nodded, accepting that. "I was tired a long time ago. Now, it just doesn't matter." He looked at it. "I've given up."

 _ **I've known that for a while now.**_

He said nothing, he just lowered his head and sat there. Most times, he looked forward to these meetings; the one constant light in his dreary existence.

But now, even the joy of them had been sucked out of him.

The being gave a small hum. _**You are tired because you haven't just given up on yourself, but on the world. You don't see any foreseeable outcome where anything changes.**_

He scoffed. "Am I wrong? Look at how they fight, how they treat one another. Don't you remember when everything fell? Accusations were fired from every direction, and they all struck us. It's impossible for them to change."

Shaking his head, he looked away. "I've gone and done it. This time wasn't going to be like the others, where maybe a handful of people vaguely see me. I walked in front of everyone, hundreds of people, they all saw me. I just … whatever happens, happens. But I don't care anymore."

The voice sighed. _**Fortunately, one of us is able to see every branching path of a choice. And right now, you have one such decision to make.**_

He looked at the entity curiously. "And what would that be?"

 _ **I've set the destiny of another in motion. It was no accident that she found herself here.**_

He was taken aback. "Her? But she's-"

 _ **There's more to her than you think. Watch, and see.**_

Moving aside, the blue being moved aside to provide room for him to move up. Hesitating only for a moment, he walked over to the ledge's lip and looked down.

—X—

The leader of the group stopped in front of Dirk, those soulless black holes for eyes boring into the Keeper.

Dirk took a blunt approach to defusing the situation. "There's nothing for you here. You are not welcome here."

They tilted their head slightly. "On the contrary. It would seem that there _is_ something of interest to us here."

Their voice was male, one of silky tone but with veiled threat within. She knew that they intended to have their way here.

But Dirk wasn't budging. Crossing his arms, he planted himself firmly in place. "I'm a firm believer in freedom, in the eradication of tyranny. And it would seem to me that this 'Hunter' you seek has suffered a severe lack of that. I don't know of your quarrel with him, I didn't even know he existed as of half an hour ago, but I know that he deserves the privilege of peace if he wishes it."

The leader wasn't so easily brushed off. "I don't believe I was asking for your permission. This is simply a notice that we will be performing business here."

Dirk's eyes widened with anger. "No, you won't. I'm the head keeper of this Temple, so I maintain the peace. And I'm of the opinion that there won't _be_ any peace if you roam here. So, in a simpler way you can understand; get out."

Clara was impressed with Dirk's bravery in the face of clear opposition. It seemed that the majority of the crowd was similarly watching the exchange, pleased with Dirk's stance on the situation. Apparently, the Trinary Star wasn't too popular of a group in these parts.

The leader gave a snarl, something she hadn't expected from the cool and collected voice she'd heard a few moments ago. "You've entertained me for a few minutes, but your novelty has worn thin."

With a move so quick that she couldn't properly see what happened, they seemed to shove a fistful of fire into Dirk's chest. The Keeper was immediately blown backwards into the air, and landed in a heap several feet from Clara. He uttered not a sound.

"Dirk!" she cried, and moved to examine him. She froze as soon as she saw what had happened, and why he wasn't making any noise. It seemed as though a hole had been burned right through his body, an aperture torn directly through the core of his stomach. Dirk was certainly dead.

The leader looked around at the crowd and screamed angrily, "WHERE IS HE?! WHERE IS THE HUNTER?!"

They seized up in fear at the sudden outburst before them. Whoever this individual was, they seemed quite unstable.

In a beat, their voice returns to its menacingly low tone. "If you do not reveal him, we will be forced to find him ourselves. And I can assure you, none of you will like that." The implication behind the words was subtle, but not entirely hidden. And judging from his reaction to Dirk, she had the feeling that they wouldn't be against killing everyone here just to get to the Hunter. Someone had to step up, and defend him just as Dirk had.

Moving away from the body, she stood firmly a few feet in front of the leader. They seemed pleased by her behavior. "Ma'am, I applaud your choice to step forward. Where might we find the Hunter?"

She tensed herself up, gathering her courage, and spoke loudly so that everyone could hear her. "You won't. As my friend said, he has earned the right to peace from you."

Their voice fell, obviously not expecting the response that she'd given. "Did you not see what _happened_ to your friend? I urge you, do not tempt me into joining you with him."

Her body shaking ever so slightly, she managed to maintain her composure. "I will not bend to your will. With me, you'll find that fear is not an effective weapon in your arsenal. So fight me or kill me, what have you. But I will not be intimidated by you, nor will I stand aside."

She could hear a collective murmuring from the the masses behind her, marveling at her actions. Evidently, the man before her could hear it too.

"So be it," he spat.

With a quickness she could not have predicted, his fist came free from the folds of his cloak and struck her in the face. It was gauntleted with metal knuckles, and she felt it dent her cheek as it impacted against her. She was knocked to the ground, before standing up and taking her own swing at him. '

Easily dodging her attack, he grabbed her arm and lifted her into the air before slamming her down onto her back. Lifting his foot high off the ground, he drove it down into her midsection and caused her to buckle with pain.

He leaned down as she lay limp on the stone floor, and hissed at her. "Look at what your defiance has rewarded you with; a premature death. What a pity." Standing back up, he held a fist ready to cave her head in-

A white object suddenly flew in between Clara and her attacker. "If you want to kill her, you'll have to kill both of us!"

It was Ghost. Ordinarily, she would have appreciated his misplaced act of bravery; but it had accomplished nothing here besides guaranteeing himself a death as well as her.

Unexpectedly, however, the man froze at the sight. "A Ghost … ? With you … ?" He seemed completely nonplussed by the situation before suddenly chuckling and lowering his fist. "Has he taken on an apprentice? It's of no wonder that you defended him-"

This man thought she was the Hunter's trainee? She had to correct that perspective.

"I'm no apprentice of his," she spoke as toughly as she could while gritting through the pain, "I just know that I'm no friend of yours."

Now, the man seemed even more confused than before. "If you have no relation to him, then why do you defend him so vehemently?"

"Because," she groaned, "it's the right thing to do."

At that, he scoffed in disgust. "What would he know of the right thing, if you're so convinced he's the victim here? In fact, let's put your faith to the test!"

Reaching down, he gripped her by the throat and held her in the air. He was surprisingly strong, and she could feel him slightly choking her windpipe as her feet were lifted off the ground. Ghost hovered frantically around, obviously in distress but without any real ways to help her. Ghosts weren't equipped for combat, it seemed.

He drew a knife from within his cloak, and held it tauntingly close to her face, scratching the metal of her features as he did so. "Do you think he'd do the same for you? Defend you from the likes of me?" He laughed. "Let's see."

Looking around the entirety of the area, he yelled, "HUNTER! IF YOU TRULY ARE AS VALIANT AS THIS MISGUIDED FOOL BELIEVES YOU TO BE, THEN SHOW YOURSELF! COME TO HER AID, IF YOU DARE!"

—X—

He clenched his fists.

"Why did you lead her here? She doesn't deserve this!"

 _ **Then prove it.**_

He was shocked by the entity's response. "You … this is the choice?"

 _ **You claim that this is not justice. If you are truly not at fault, and everyone is incapable of change, then there should be no question that her death is of no consequence to you.**_ The voice pressed on. _**But if you see the truth, that there is hope and perhaps you just refuse to see it … then prove that you are still willing to do what's right, as she has done.**_

He was stunned into silence by the revelation that the being was presenting him. This ultimatum was beyond anything he'd expected, but there was no question that he had to make a decision quickly.

 _ **I will not appear again.**_

He spun around in surprise. "What? But-"

 _ **If you have still given up, then there is not a need for me any longer. You will find a way to meet your end in your own way, I will not help you. And if you decide that perhaps there is a chance after all for change … then it will be time to accept the past and move on.**_

He said nothing, too stunned for words. Everything was happening too fast, he hadn't wanted any of this.

Without waiting for a response, the humanoid head bowed towards him. _**Goodbye.**_

With a small flash of blue light, the anomaly disappeared.

Staring where they'd been a moment before for just a second longer, he returned his attention to the scene unfolding below him. He'd been called out, challenged by _him._

He pondered what they'd said, wondering if maybe he truly was the same person that he'd thought himself to be. All those years ago, back when he wasn't a disheartened man, what would he have done?

Remembering a saying from long ago, he turned it over in his mind; _it is when people are at their breaking point that you discover the nature of their character._

To find out who a person was, you had to examine them when everything wasn't convenient for them, when life was at its most difficult point; did they fall apart, did they change who they were? Or did they stick to their morals, to their beliefs in spite of opposition?

With a final sigh of resignation, he made his choice.

—X—

The man remained silent, waiting for a response of any kind. Unknown to him, Clara also waited for an answer to her plight, for the Hunter to defend her as she had done for him.

But no one came.

A cruel laugh escaped from beneath the skull-helmet. "You see? He does not care for you, or anyone else. He never has."

She felt her metallic lip trembling, but held steady as she resigned herself to her fate. "I didn't defend him expecting a reward; I did it because it because it needed to be done."

He shook his head, tightening his grip around her neck. "Your fault was that you do not know him."

At this, he leaned close and whispered to her. "But I do."

She hung there in shock, momentarily forgetting her situation. He'd known that the Hunter existed?

"I know above all that he's a selfish coward, hiding behind the backs of greater men to protect him! He sees you all as being beneath him, insects to his paradigm of superiority. And hell will freeze over, preferably with him in it, before he lifts a finger to help you-"

He was cut off as the sound of something slamming hard into the stone behind her caused everyone to gasp collectively. The man holding her suddenly lost his grip on her throat, rendered temporarily speechless. As she landed on the ground, and Ghost flitted around her to make sure she was okay, she lifted her head to see what had happened.

He was in a kneeling position, his left leg forward and his right knee flat on the ground. His right arm was stretched to the ground, bent with the task of absorbing such an impact as the one created by falling from the height of the peak. His head was hidden from view as he stared at the ground; but as she watched, he slowly lifted his gaze up to meet her own, and she saw that wicked helmet beneath the cloak once again.

The Hunter was here.


	6. Standoff

_I watch as our life crumbles around us._

 _The people we walk among hurl insults, and spit at our feet. While we were once hailed as heroes, as the saviors of humanity, now we are seen as the harbingers of death. The Grim Reaper's reputation is superseded by our own._

 _I hurt as our friends fall before us._

 _Whether they step down from their role, or are forced to submit to this new will of the people, or are even hunted in order to ensure that they never again lift the mantle of responsibility that we've taken on, my heart aches for their suffering._

 _I feel hope as he holds me._

 _As his arms wrap around me, his hands gripping me tightly around my navel and chest, it gives me a small sense of security; that in this new, uncertain future, he will remain my rock, my one unyielding constant that I can look forward to each morning._

 _But what would I do, if he were to not be there in the morning? How broken would I become, how deranged may I see myself if he was not with me?_

 _What will he do, when I am no longer here to keep his dark thoughts from consuming him?_

* * *

Slowly, the Hunter rose to a standing position and his full height. The crowd of onlookers behind him and to his sides were awestruck, astounded that he had come to Clara's aid after all. Ghost hovered there nonplussed, still in awe of the living myth before him.

The man with the skull helmet quickly regained his composure. "Well, it would seem that you can't entirely let go of your ego, can you?"

The Hunter said nothing, simply glaring at the man from behind those fiery eyes of the helmet he wore.

It was wise, in her opinion; had he not come to help her, she would have died and the man would have been proven right. But now that he had, the man would taunt him for being selfless. It was a losing battle either way, but the Hunter had opted not to entertain a conversation with him. Saying nothing said more than trying to defend himself ever could.

The man gestured to the enforcers flanking his sides as protection. "It's over, Hunter. We've only tolerated your existence with the unspoken agreement that you keep it ambiguous. Evidently, you've faltered on your part." He cocked his head slightly. "Besides, I'd almost think you _wanted_ it to end. You wouldn't have shown yourself without a reason, and you must have known this would happen."

Clara was still shocked by the fact that the Trinary Star had known that the Hunter existed in the first place; if they'd let everyone believe that Guardians were nothing more than an old legend, what else could be true that they were hiding?

Remaining silent, the Hunter simply pointed at Clara. Then he pointed towards the spot next to him, indicating that she should go to him.

She began to move, but her progress was immediately impeded by the grip of the Star's leader on her arm, wrenching her backwards and away from safety. "I don't think so. If you want her guaranteed safety, then give yourself up. Her life for yours is fair, don't you think?"

The Hunter still said nothing, but she watched as he began to shift his weight in response to the enforcers now moving slowly towards him. Tension was present throughout the courtyard as everyone watched with bated breath.

"I'd rather make an example of you later, but I'll kill you here if you force my hand," the leader growled.

The Hunter stared back, unmoved.

The leader gave a small hand gesture to his men, and they began to move forward on the Hunter. He made no moves against them, in spite of his preparation for something … something that hadn't come yet-

Suddenly, the faint sound of engines could be heard in the distance, growing louder with every passing second. The leader looked out at the skies behind them, and muttered a curse under his breath as he realized what was descending upon them. "It's the Seven! Grab him, and let's-"

In the blink of an eye, the Hunter vanished. He didn't hide, he literally vanished. The enforcers, Ghost, and Clara alike looked around wildly for where he'd disappeared to-

In the space of a single moment, the Hunter had reappeared behind one of the enforcers and wrapped his arm around the man's neck. Their scream was cut off as he snapped their neck with one quick motion, and then threw their body into two others.

Another tried to rush him and swung a fist, but the Hunter easily caught it and then brought down the enforcer's arm on his shoulder, snapping it at the elbow. As they cried out in pain, the Hunter yanked the rifle out of their hands and then kicked them away before aiming at the leader.

He fired a single burst which the leader was forced to dodge immediately, but then the man brought Clara closer and held her out in front of him like a shield. "Put it down! Or do you want yet another death on your hands?" he taunted. She struggled against his hold, but he was too strong and she was in too vulnerable a position.

Clara could see that the Hunter didn't want to risk her life by making any sudden moves, but he couldn't exactly surrender either. All he and the leader could do was glare at each other, thinking angry thoughts.

"Well?!" demanded her captor, "Speak, coward!"

The Hunter looked directly at Clara. Finally, he spoke for the first time to her.

"Duck."

She was momentarily confused about what he meant before she registered the drone and whine of the engines that had gotten louder. Taking the cue, she immediately swung her body as hard as she could towards the ground, just managing to break out of the leader's hold.

It was right in time, as the Seven's gunships arrived and began peppering the courtyard with waves of bullets. She could hear them ricochet all around her, thankfully not hitting her. It seemed as though they were aiming for the Star's enforcers and their ships. Responding to the provocation, the Star's gunships began to engage the Seven's in a mid-air dogfight above Felwinter Peak.

Suddenly, she felt a strong hand grip her arm and lift her to her feet. "Come on." Looking up, she saw the Hunter forcing her to stand, urging her to move. "Follow me." She had no idea where the leader of the Star had gone, but the point was that he wasn't there anymore.

With an almost daze-like trance, she stepped after him as he made a beeline towards the edge of the courtyard overlooking the cliff, pausing intermittently to shoot anyone who tried to attack them. Upon reaching the ledge he motioned for her to wait. Apparently, something was going to happen-

Suddenly hearing a scuffle of boots behind them, she turned to see the leader with a gun in hand. He took aim at the Hunter who had not noticed yet, and prepared to fire.

Without thinking, she moved in front of him, shielding him with her body. She heard the faint sound of the gun going off, and then the almost distant feel of the bullets penetrating her light armor and punching their way into her inner systems.

"CLARA!" Ghost cried out.

The Hunter immediately turned towards the threat and threw something from within the folds of his cloak. It was a spinning dagger which buried itself in the hand of the leader, forcing him to relinquish his grip on the gun.

She began to fall backwards, but he caught her before she could hit the ground. Scooping her into his arms, he remained silent as ever as she feebly stirred. Her vision was growing darker, her systems shutting down to save power for life support. Looking at her midsection, she saw the blue blood that ran through Exo's artificial veins, and more than enough of it to be indicative of a serious injury.

Her last sight before she completely faded was Ghost flying frantically around her in worry, and the Hunter jumping off the ledge as he held her. They fell down … down … down …

And then the abyss consumed her.

…

She woke with a scream, finally responding to the pain that she'd felt when she'd been shot. With shaking hands, they rushed to her chest expecting to find her bleeding-

But her fingers came away dry. Trembling, she looked down at the tunic Dirk had given her which had been ripped open; not by the bullets, but with force, as though someone had pried their fingers into it and torn it manually.

Her body could be seen beneath, still stained with dried cobalt splotches from the injuries.; but some of the plating had been removed, and she could see into her innards. Where tubes had been broken, now there was some kind of tape-like material reinforcing them, keeping them from leaking. It was a makeshift job, but very well done considering the circumstances.

Trying to gather a sense of her surroundings, she took a look around. She was in quite a different location than when she'd passed out; it appeared to be a ship of some kind. Right now, she was lying on the metal floor in what appeared to be the bridge.

Upon hearing her move around, a familiar face darted towards her. "Clara! Are you alright?"

Ghost flitted back and forth frantically, trying to assess her well-being. "I-I didn't know what to do, a-and you were shot, and I j-just-"

"I'm fine," she said dismissively, waving him away as she grunted in pain. "Where … where are we?"

Ghost fell silent, and simply looked at something over her shoulder. She followed his gaze to see the Hunter standing behind her, silent and stoic as ever.

She had no idea what to say to him really, what could you say in that situation? She hadn't even known he'd existed a day ago, and now he'd gone and saved her life at the potential expense of his own.

Opting for a simple gesture of goodwill, she nodded in his direction meekly. "T-thank you, for s-saving me." Her voice shook with a slight edge of fear in its tone, a reminder to her that regardless of intent, the Hunter still inspired trepidation within her.

He said nothing at first, as seemed to be the case most of the time. Unexpectedly, he hung his head in what she could only assume was thinly veiled anger.

"Why?"

She hadn't anticipated a response from him, and was not only surprised by his doing so, but by the content of his reply. " 'W-Why' what?"

He shook his head slightly. "All this time, all these years, and yet …"

His voice was an odd mix of youth and age; while he didn't seem particularly old from the direct sound of his voice, she could hear it in the way his voice told a story; this was someone who was old, and had been dealing with pain for a very long time.

Rising in both volume and anger, he began to pace around the ship. "I was ready. This time, I was ready to let it all go, but _you-"_ He spun around and pointed an accusing finger at Clara. "You just had to go and play the hero, didn't you? You had to go and get involved."

She hadn't expected that kind of reaction at all. "I … I was just trying to defend you-"

Immediately, his voice reverted back to the low, threatening tone he'd been using a moment before. "There's always someone, there's always some damn person who thinks that they can make things right. Hell, I was probably that person for a time," he muttered. "Well, guess what? You _can't."_

"How can you think that way?" she asked, appalled. "That things can't ever get better-"

"Because I've seen how people change, how everything you've ever known or cared about can be thrown away as though it never happened," he spat. "What good is any deed if people will only condemn you for it later?"

He walked back towards the pilot's chair that she saw at the front of the cockpit of sorts they were in. "I've done more than my share in this world, put my life on the line for people who didn't deserve it, and now all I want is for it to end." He gripped the edge of the headrest tightly. "So, _why …_ _do I keep getting punished for that?!"_ he suddenly yelled, smashing his fist onto the console, and scaring both Clara and Ghost.

They remained silent as his chest heaved from exertion, allowing him space after his outburst. As they watched, his Ghost from earlier materialized and moved closer to the face of his helmet. Clara couldn't hear it, so she could only assume that it was speaking to the Hunter through other means.

After a few moments of that, the Hunter turned back around and stared at Clara silently. She had no idea what expression he wore under that helmet of his, but that wicked maw engraved into its front didn't inspire any confidence in her.

"Who are you?" he snapped. "Why did you stand up for me?"

She shrank away from his accusatory tone. "My name's C-Clara. And I don't know …"

"I need a better answer than, 'I don't know'," he spat.

"I don't know!" she cried. "It was just … you were by yourself, and Dirk died defending you … and it felt wrong that they w-wouldn't leave you in peace … and n-no one else was going to h-help you …"

She looked at him, her blue eyes filled with emotion. "I just didn't want you to feel so alone."

Apparently, he hadn't been expecting that answer, and stood there without a response.

She tilted her head in confusion. "What?"

He took a moment to answer. "I used to know someone who thought like you."

"Who?"

He sighed. "Another Hunter. He was someone who would have done everything in his power to protect others … even if it meant sacrificing himself." He clenched a fist tightly. "Funnily enough, the only time he failed was when he was needed most."

Eventually, he walked back over and knelt down next to her. Then he examined the temporary patchwork that he'd presumably performed on her injuries. "Years ago, I could have healed that in seconds." He shook his head in frustration. "Not the case anymore. That should hold you until we arrive, and I can perform a more extensive operation."

"Why?" she asked quietly, mirroring his question from earlier.

He looked away from her injuries, and into her eyes. " 'Why' what?"

"Why are you helping me?"

At that, it seemed that the Hunter had no real answer. He sat on his haunches, idle for a moment. Then with a shake of his head, he stood back up. "Call it an old-fashioned sense of courtesy. I'm repaying a debt."

She assumed that he meant to her, for shielding him from the leader's bullets. Speaking of which …

"Who was that man?" she continued, trying to gather more information. "The leader of the Trinary Star, the one who wanted you?"

The Hunter paused, and was quiet for another moment or two before answering. "That's the Stag. He's both the religious leader and commanding individual of the Star's military forces." He snorted. "Haven't seen anyone stand up to him in a long time, so consider yourself a special case."

"Why does he want you?"

The Hunter growled. "You ask a lot of questions, don't you?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, and with as confident a voice she could muster spoke; "You can at least answer a few of them, considering I took a bullet for you."

Ghost looked in shock from her to him. In truth, she wasn't nearly as confident as she was pretending to be; but she wanted answers.

He stared at her blankly before sighing with that same weary sigh she'd heard before, the one that spoke volumes of age and tragedy. "It's a long story."

She gestured to their surroundings. "It would seem we have a bit of time."

He grunted. "That, we do." He looked at her. "As it so happens, that story actually has a lot to do with the other Hunter I told you about."

"Really?"

He nodded. "Yeah. In fact, it has just about everything to do with him." Deciding to share his story for the first time in years, he turned towards the chair next to him …

… and looked at Aria sitting there, staring back at him.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Okay, so let's get some things out of the way.**_

 _ **The Hunter's name will be revealed next chapter, sorry but it didn't mesh well with this chapter; I felt like I kept shoehorning it in, and I'd rather not rush the pacing on this.**_

 _ **No, the Stag is not a Warlock; his helmet is the Stag without the horns, though.**_

 _ **And if you're confused as hell at the ending of this chapter, like I said; things are going to be revealed, and probably not in the way you expect.**_

 _ **Also, I had someone ask me what armor the Last Hunter was wearing based on the cover; It's the Days of Iron Helmet with the ornament, the Days of Iron Hauberk with no ornament, Iron Breed Sleeves, Kallipolis Boots, and Idylls of the Iron Lords with no ornament.**_

 _ **Until the next time,**_

 _ **\- Matteoarts**_


	7. An Ancient Tale

_Loyalty is a fickle friend._

 _When thoughts run dark, and peace is uncertain, all will flock to easy security, to the promise of safety and guardianship._

 _But when those threats fade, and the need for protectors has died, love soon turns to hate._

 _The admiration for which the populace may hold for their saviors will flee, and be replaced with a fear which may not have been there before._

 _To have total control, you must have both fear and hope._

 _All fear and no hope means that they have nothing to lose._

 _All hope and no fear means that they have nothing to shy away from._

 _But the child of both fear and hope can ensure total obedience; they will rely on another's ability to save them, believing that they are unable to save themselves. In order to make sure that they meet this hero, they will listen until that hope reveals itself._

 _The trick is to never show them that there truly is no hope …_

… _or that the hope is not a pleasant aspiration, but a reality._

* * *

MANY YEARS AGO

* * *

Tiredly, Aria raised the glass of alcohol to her lips. Matt looked over at his own cup, which he'd been slowly sipping way for the last half of an hour. Even with some of it still left, he'd suddenly lost the urge to drink any more.

Whenever he drank, it was for one of three things; to celebrate, to numb, or to forget. Right now, he was drinking because he couldn't think of anything else to do.

"So," he muttered drowsily, "still no sign of him, huh?"

Aria shook her head, staring at the counter in front of her as the bartender passed by them. "No. We've searched just about everywhere now, and no sign of him. And he's definitely not hiding on purpose, there's no reason behind a move like that."

Rook had been missing for over two weeks now. On the first day or so, they hadn't been too worried. They thought that he was just somewhere in the city, either in minor trouble or carelessly roaming around. Their slight anger had quickly become anxiety when they found that there was no indication whatsoever of where he'd gone. Scorch and Dawn had simply woken up one day, and he wasn't there.

While Matt couldn't claim to know Rook as well as the two who lived with the guy, the Exo had been on familiar terms with him. He was friendly, humorous, and a generally enjoyable person to be around. He wasn't the kind of person who would go missing for such an extended period of time on his own volition.

Which meant that there was something potentially more sinister going on.

They'd been taking shifts for a bit, two to a team to track him down while the others rested. Aria and Matt had just finished their own respective rounds of the city, and turned up with nothing just like every other time they'd gone out.

No witnesses. No clues. No Rook.

His disappearance was taking its toll on everyone, Scorch the most heavily, but it provoked something else within Matt that he hadn't told anyone; curiosity.

Guardians just weren't needed like they had been before. Even before Oryx, Guardian activity had started to wane. Most of the menaces from the Darkness had been rather straightforward, and dealt with accordingly.

The Black Garden.

Retrieving the Spark of the Traveler from Mercury.

Atheon, Time's Conflux.

Kaine, in the Vault of Glass.

Crota, Prince of the Hive.

Skolas, the Kell of Kells.

Oryx, the Taken King.

The Darkness had run out of threats to throw at them. Oryx had been the last major opposition to the City, and they'd taken him down two years ago. Most thought that any thought of attack from the Darkness was now no more than an unlikely thought, however negative it may be.

But he thought otherwise.

He'd been fighting the Darkness for seven years, twelve if you counted the time that he'd spent frozen in limbo in the Vault. Since the moment he'd been resurrected, he'd had to adapt to the enemies of this time, defending the Last City from the minions that the Darkness sent to consume the light.

And one of the things he had learned was that whenever all seemed to be at peace, that was when the Darkness struck.

Many thought that his mild paranoia came from PTSD, that he was losing his edge. He wouldn't be the first Guardian to fall victim to mental trauma. The horrors of constant battle would wear down anyone's mind, providing a constant source of stress of which there was no relief.

While that may be true, he was confident that he was right. Rook's disappearance didn't make sense in any other context, it didn't add up. He had no idea why the Darkness would need an Exo, but it just _did._ Something was coming, he could feel it, he could-

"Matt, are you alright?"

Aria's voice jolted him back to reality, and away from the haunting voices that had begun to chant in his head. He looked down to see his hand shaking involuntarily, twitching like a dying spider.

"Yeah," he dismissed, "I'm fine." Shakily grabbing his glass, he downed the remainder and set it back on the counter. Instantly, he felt himself relax a bit more, and noticed that his hand had stopped spasming.

In front of him, Seraph materialized. "I think that's enough for you."

He nodded his agreement, quickly waving at her so she could pay the bar for the drink. "Probably. Aria, I'm gonna head back home. I'll see you in the morning."

She gave a worried expression, but held back any comments other than, "Good night." He knew better than to assume she wasn't thinking those same things about him. She heard the rumors that others spread behind his back, the mutters they spoke of his sanity when they thought he couldn't hear. He knew that she would never engage in those talks, but perhaps she still held a small belief in their validity deep down.

In any case, he wasn't worried about her questioning his judgement. Even if she didn't share his fears, he knew that she would follow whatever command he gave her, as would the others. They respected him far too much for any callous speculation that anyone made of his mental health to have an effect on their loyalty to each other and him.

Slowly, he shambled his way through the streets, clumsy more from exhaustion than the liquor in his system. Spending every day exploring each nook and cranny in the city as well as beyond the walls definitely put some strain on his body. Thankfully, they were practically empty due to the late hour, which meant that there weren't any citizens around to gawk at him and whisper hearsay under their breaths.

For the most part, the people of the City already held a previous healthy fear of Guardians, one that came as a result of their respect for them and their deeds. But with the decrease in necessity for them, that respect was slowly dwindling down. He didn't need anyone judging all Guardians on behalf of his own sluggish behavior at the moment.

Reaching the ground lobby of the tower, he pushed into it and quickly found himself an elevator. Leaning against the side, he stared out at the lights of the City through the glass wall, and was almost rocked to sleep by the steady vibrations of the conveyor as it guided itself up the rails towards the courtyard. Only when it had reached the top and gave a beep of confirmation that they had arrived did he give a loud start, and realize where he was again.

Shuffling out of the elevator, he walked to his room and opened the door. Even in his foggy state, he was careful to remain quiet as to not wake the individual currently occupying the bed.

As it turned out, Ash was still awake. He blearily saw two glowing blue lights appear in the dark, and stare back at him as he moved to the bed. "Hey."

"Hey," he muttered back, lying down on the mattress next to her. She remained looking at him.

"Anything?"

He shook his head, then tiredly rotated it to look back at her. "You?"

"Nothing," she admitted softly. "Scorch is going crazy with worry."

He had no response to that. The two of them were great friends, it was true; having both lived on the streets for much of their lives, Scorch and Rook easily related to one another, and it wasn't hard to see how their friendship had grown. He'd even spent time with the others of the Legends, and they'd taken a liking to him. It wasn't easy for anyone.

Beside him, she gave a worried sigh. "Matt … do you … do you think that maybe he's … ?"

Softly shushing her, he kissed the top of her head. "Hey, don't think like that. I'm sure he's still holding out, wherever he is."

Satisfied with that answer, she let her head fall back on the pillows and began to finally sleep. Little did she know that his advice was hypocritical in nature.

Truthfully, he'd be very surprised if they weren't looking for a corpse by now.

—X—

Setting Clara on some kind of mat he'd laid on the floor, the Hunter disappeared for a moment to get some supplies.

She had still lost a lot of ichor, and was in somewhat of a daze currently. As far as she could tell, they were no longer in the Hunter's ship, but rather in some kind of building. Everything was made of wood, and it gave her the idea that perhaps they were in a cabin, or a cottage.

She heard the sound of the Hunter's boots on the floor before she saw him come back into her field of vision and kneel down next to her. Laying out the items, she saw that it was some kind of metallic looking plant.

Gently, he reached his hands in to strip away the coverings he'd applied, revealing her chest. "Deactivate your neuro-sensors if you haven't already."

Hazily, she followed his order. After a moment or two, he seemed sure that she'd followed his direction, and he moved in to grab her 'skin'. Finding a seam in the damaged metal, he pried her plating apart and looked to Ghost, who was circling around them both.

"Get to work."

Ghost looked at the Hunter oddly. "What do you mean?"

The Hunter gestured at her. "Her wounds. Use the spinmetal to create replacement parts. You'd be surprised at how many uses this stuff has."

Ghost looked nervously from her weak form to the man ordering him to perform surgery on her. "I've never done this before! I don't know how-"

"Then she's going to die," the Hunter said seriously.

Ghost jerked back at his grim declaration. "Why can't your Ghost heal her?"

"Ghosts are tied to their partners," the Hunter explained. "Mine is bonded to me. You'll need to be bonded to her in order to help."

"Bonds between humanity and Ghosts haven't happened since-"

"I know," the Hunter growled. "Believe me, I'm more than aware. But if you want her to live, then you'll put aside your fears and _get to work."_

The polyhedron ran out of things to say, and instead took a long look at Clara as she began to fade away. Gathering his strength, he began to emit a beam of light from his eye, using it on her injuries as he floated about. The Hunter looked at the spinmetal and was pleased to see that it was being used up.

Tiredly, Clara looked at him. "So … this other Hunter … you knew them well?"

The Hunter looked at her, deciding to humor her since she wasn't in the most comfortable of situations at the moment. "You could say that."

"Well, where … where do you fit into the picture? I thought this was _your_ story."

He gave a tired sigh. "I come into the picture later, but … this isn't just _my_ story. It's _a_ story. And with most stories, there's usually more to them than it may seem at first. There were a lot of people and events that lead up to the point of me being here, telling the tale to you."

Groggily, she scrunched up her face. "Well, you've … you've thrown me a few names in … that story of yours. Mind … telling me your own? I don't want to … to just call you … 'the Hunter' all the time."

He froze, and for a second she thought that she went too far. But upon further inspection, it seemed more like he was contemplating her request.

"Woods."

He said it simply, and with an air of finality. The name was sure simple enough, and she wasn't even sure if it was his real name; but it was the one she'd been given, so she was going to use it. "Alright … Woods. So what … what happened next?"

With a deep breath as Ghost continued to heal her, he begun the tale anew.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Short chapter, yeah. Sorry about that, but I've been working on a project for a film contest, and just submitted my entry yesterday. Haven't had a lot of time to work on writing, and I wanted to get this chapter out before spring break ended.**_

 _ **In any matter, I don't have much else to talk about. Everything's pretty much normal. Digging the new Samurai Jack episodes, they're pretty awesome. Check them out if you haven't already.**_

 _ **I guess that's it. Please follow, favorite, and review! I love reading your thoughts.**_

 _ **Until the next time,**_

 _ **\- Matteoarts**_


	8. An Old Foe

_I died once, a fault of my mortal form, only to be reborn as metal and circuit._

 _I died twice, abandoned and prejudiced against; I was given a new life through shadow and darkness._

 _I died thrice, forced to watch as everything was stolen from me._

 _My careful planning failed. The attack crumbled and fell apart. My family, those who I'd taken care of and had trusted to return the favor … they turned on me._

 _Yet, I live again._

 _Why?_

 _Why am I not permitted to feel the bliss that comes from fading into nothing? Why must I endure this god-forsaken experience known as life, the hellish plane that most cling to because it is all they know?_

 _I know._

 _Vengeance._

 _It would appear that my only purpose in life … is death._

* * *

He shot out of bed before he fully realized what was happening. He brought his arm back, knife at the ready for whatever disturbed him-

No one was there. The room was empty save for him and Ash, the latter of whom was stirring from the commotion.

Wondering what had possibly woken him up, his query was potentially answered with a resounding boom far off in the distance. Turning towards the door, he was now able to pick up on the muffled gasps and low voices that could be heard outside the door, presumably from other Guardians who had been stolen from sleep like him.

He checked the time. Two in the morning. Whatever was happening right now, it wasn't supposed to be.

"What's going on?" whispered Ash, her blue eyes shining in the shadow of the room. He paused, unsure of how to answer her. He had a few ideas … but better to play it safe first.

"I'm going to check it out. Be ready, just in case."

She nodded, and slipped out of bed so that she could dress herself. Following her example, he pulled on the closest pair of pants before quickly exiting the room and making his way down to the tower courtyard.

Upon stepping out onto the balcony, Matt was surprised to see a gathering of Guardians standing near the railing of the courtyard and looking out at the city. With haste in his gait, he jogged down the steps and joined the throng of people to see what was the matter.

At first, his eyes didn't register what was happening. Then, he spotted a peculiar sight accompanied by another boom similar to the one he'd experienced earlier. A blossom of orange and red far off in the distance, near the memorial district in Messenger's Fall.

Explosions.

Now, his first instinct was to declare a state of attack; but he knew how paranoid many found him to be after his experience with dealing with the Darkness. More than likely, it was a few callous citizens who were messing with unauthorized ordnance they'd either stolen or crafted illegally. That meant that someone was going to have to deal with it.

"Seraph," he muttered, and watched as the Ghost materialized in front of him. "Notify the Vanguards of the incident, and let them know that we'll be handling it."

She pulsed once. "Done."

After she disappeared once more, he raised his wrist to his mouth and spoke into the interface. "Alright team, we've got an unknown situation down in Messanger's Fall. Explosions. Probably just some kids looking to have some fun in the memorial site, but I'm not taking chances. I want all of you geared up and ready to leave immediately."

" _Already done."_

" _Copy that."_

" _You got it."_

" _It's too early for this …"_

" _On our way."_

Sighing, he lowered his arm again. He truly hoped that it was just a mild disturbance that turned out to be harmless.

For everyone's sake, he hoped his gut was wrong.

—X—

Cautiously, he stepped through the rubble of several ruined buildings. The other five followed closely behind, though spread out to better prevent an ambush if one came.

He never came here often; while the site had been named 'Messenger's Fall' in light of the Darkness' defeat during the Battle for the Traveler, the Exo hadn't been the only one to die here. The memory of that rebar stabbing through his midsection was forever etched in his mind.

Most of the time, he thought of the place like his own grave, just waiting for him to return so it could claim him again. That kind of thought didn't sit well with him.

As they walked, thunderous noises continued to echo in the air, cracking and splitting the peace of the night. Glows of orange dimly lit up the black sky whenever one happened to occur.

They were getting close.

" _What do you think it is?"_ whispered Dawn over the comms.

" _I don't know,"_ Eager replied, _"But I've got the Task Force on standby if we need them."_

Matt remained silent, letting them talk. He'd told Eager to refrain from sending in the force quite yet, and while the Exo had been somewhat unhappy with the arrangement, he'd agreed. The last thing they needed was to overreact and cause a scene that would only further everyone's view of him being a delusional victim of PTSD.

Finally, beyond the last remaining wall of a long-destroyed structure, he heard and saw the explosion firsthand. From this close, being just on the other side of the wall, it didn't sound like a 'boom' anymore; it was loud to be sure, but it was more akin to a gas stove turning on while next to a megaphone.

The point was that it sounded more like something was igniting rather than simply combusting.

Raising his fist in the air, he made a gesture for the others to stay quiet but follow closely. Leaning against the dilapidated wall, he pressed his head against it. There were noises, a cacophony of chattering like insects. It sounded distorted, but there was no mistaking it.

"Fallen," he relayed over the comms. He saw acknowledgement lights wink green, registering that they had indeed heard him and understood the situation.

That led to another question; what were the Fallen doing here? How had they gotten through the wall without anyone knowing? The idea of them coming here to do nothing other than the equivalent of setting off fireworks just didn't make sense to him. The Fallen were crafty, greedy; they never did something unless either something was in it for them, or it furthered their goals in some way-

"Finally … after all this time … I'm most enthusiastic about your arrival."

That wasn't Fallen; that was definitely a human voice … but it sounded garbled, like it was emitting through a broken speaker that distorted it. Who was it speaking to? The Fallen? Or some other unseen entity?

After failing to hear another voice respond, he was left confused. They wouldn't just be talking to themselves would they? And what was that about arrival? He hadn't seen anyone come … other than …

The gears turning in his head, he flashed a red light to the rest of the team. "Abort, they know we're-"

Before any of them could react, Fallen leapt out of hiding places they'd created in the rubble and debris. Within seconds, they were completely surrounded.

Leveling their weapons at the Guardians before them, they kept the Legends from defending themselves. One wrong move would trigger them into action, and that was not what he wanted them to do. Especially upon noticing the differences between them and the Fallen he was familiar with.

The ones before them wore the garb of the Devils, the most prominent and public of Fallen Houses on Earth. But their bodies had been corrupted, changed in horrific ways.

One Dreg was missing the lower halves of its legs, replaced with spindle-like protrusions that made sharp metallic noises when they scraped the ground. A Vandal's eyes had been removed, and replaced with cybernetically enhanced ones that glowed red through hexagonal filters. A Captain no longer had any hands, but rather had converted them into extendable blades that hummed with a red glow of energy.

Each of them had black plating and caps over their form, replacing the lackluster armor that they usually wore. It was pointed, spiked, unnatural. The Fallen were known to be pirates … but this wasn't just the look of scavengers.

They looked evil. Truly evil.

Whether their personalities had actually changed or not was to be seen, but one thing was for certain; this was something new, something they hadn't encountered before.

"Bring them to me."

Chittering angrily at them, the Fallen gestured towards the other side of the wall, where the mysterious voice was coming from. Without any other choice, they obeyed.

Upon stepping through the collapsed foundation, they found themselves in a relatively open area, free of most of the debris and litter that occupied the majority of the memorial district. Finally, he was able to get some kind of look at their host.

A single figure stood there, their back facing Matt and the others. A black hood and robes covered the majority of what he could see, but there was one thing he noted with unease; an aura of red surrounded them, almost like a small cloud of flies hovering around their head. The image before him screamed of the Grim Reaper, awaiting its time to rend the souls of the living.

And right now, they were its next target.

"Why are you here?" he questioned it, hoping to get some answers from this particularly unusual situation. "What is it that you want?"

"I wanted you," the figure replied coolly. "I apologize for the delay … but I was not yet ready until tonight to summon you. A few fires and eruptions … like moths to a literal flame, you came scampering like I knew you would."

Their head turned and glanced around at their present location. "I believe they call this place 'Messenger's Fall,' right? How fitting."

"And why's that?" Aria called.

With a warped cackle that raised the hairs on Matt's neck, the figure slowly turned around and revealed their horrifying likeness to them.

A blending of metal, not all meshed together properly. Maroon plates met white ones, shoved together with pieces sticking out at odd angles intermittently. Whatever wasn't securely fastened was held together by tendrils of a black and red polygonal material that strapped across them like organic rope.

A glow emitted from under the hood as a pair of mismatched eyes met them all. One amethyst, one blue.

His blood froze at the sight, realizing what exactly he was seeing.

The figure grinned, their eerily deformed smile easily visible from the red light produced by the swarm around their face.

"I may have fallen here. But it is from the ashes that I rise again."

The Messenger had returned.

* * *

 _ **A/N: How many of you thought this would happen?**_

 _ **Short chapter, work and school is hitting me hard, you know the drill. Sorry to keep you waiting for so long, I've obviously been focused on other things.**_

 _ **Next chapter should be out much sooner than it took this one to come out, and it should be longer too.**_

 _ **Until the next time,**_

 _ **\- Matteoarts**_


	9. A Weary Soul

_**It's time.**_

 _He pushes the thoughts away, trying to keep them from invading his mind. But it is a fight that he has been losing for quite some time._

 _ **Aren't you tired? How long have you endured? How much more will you force yourself to suffer?**_

 _He tightens his hands into fists, the only thing keeping him from immediately grabbing his blade and spilling his blood onto the ground as the voice suggests._

 _ **This isn't a life; not anymore. This is just survival.**_

 _ **Not just from them … but from yourself.**_

 _With a cry of anguish, he collapses onto the ground and weeps. The suffocating loneliness is all he knows, all he ever will know in this cursed existence._

 _Maybe it's right. Maybe it's time to end it all, to finally be free._

 _He unsheathes the knife that hasn't left his side in years; his constant companion, and perhaps his salvation._

 _ **This is what you want, what you've wanted for so long …**_

… _But it's not what she would want._

 _Slowly, the blade falls from his grasp, and he stares at it lying upon the ground._

 _Every day was a battle between him and the knife. Today, he had won. But tomorrow was to be seen._

 _The war was far from over._

* * *

With a gasp, Clara was jolted out of her slumber.

Slowly, she began to calm down as she glanced around and looked at her surroundings in a clearer state of mind than the hazy blood-deprived perspective she'd had earlier. She appeared to be laying in a cot, one that resided in a room much better kept than she would have expected.

The entire structure was built out of wood, but it certainly wasn't shoddy craftsmanship; the effort expended in constructing it must have been quite generous. Her mind thought back to her first impression, one of a cozy cottage; as it turned out, that description was quite apt.

There was only one room, but it was easily large enough to house two people; her cot was situated on the left side of the main entrance, a single wooden door with glass to see outside with. On the wall opposite of her, there was a large window where she could see that wherever they were, it was in the middle of a clearing in the woods. A snow-covered field stretched for a few hundred feet before meeting a wall of trees that formed the edge of the forest.

A fireplace sat burning brightly in the wall furthest from the door, and she noted with unexpected gratitude that the Hunter had placed her cot as close to its warmth as possible. The flames gave her some much needed heat in conjunction with the blankets that had been cast on top of her.

For what was essentially a shack out in the middle of the woods, the place looked very … modern. Had Woods built this all himself?

She pulled the covers off of her body and saw that instead of the metal plating that would normally protect her naval region, it was simply tightly wrapped bandages. That meant that she'd have to be a bit more careful concerning her activities until it was replaced.

Where was the Hunter? The thought came into her mind suddenly, and she searched the room. He wasn't anywhere to be found, so she could only assume he was outside.

She had a few questions for him. The last she remembered had been him telling her the next part of his tale, the one about those six Guardians … something about a 'Messenger.' She must have fallen unconscious before he finished.

Deciding to venture a bit, she tested her strength by standing up from the cot and taking a few steps. For the most part, she felt fine; those parts that Ghost had replaced must have done the trick. Or, they were at least in working order.

Opting to get a better view of what was outside the cottage, she made her way towards the door. Gripping the handle, she twisted it and swung it open easily. A breeze of brisk cold air awaited her. After a momentary shock from the temperature, she continued outside.

There was an overhang over a patio of sorts. Nothing more than a simple deck with a step down to the ground, but it was still more than she would have expected. Glancing over to the left, she saw him sitting on the edge of the porch, his legs dangling over the ledge onto the snow. Even now, he wore his hood and helmet. He never looked towards her, but she could sense that he knew she was there.

Her intuition was confirmed a moment later when he gave a small grunt. "You should be resting up."

She said nothing, and he fell silent. She waited a few moments before giving a small cough. "Thanks … for the fire and blankets."

He gave another noise, one of begrudging approval. "Your Ghost friend is off collecting more spinmetal, considering he used up the last of my supplies on replacing your vitals. We need more if we're going to fix your plating."

She had the growing feeling that he wanted to appear more nonchalant than he actually was. It gave her the confidence to engage in conversation with him.

"Hunt …" She paused, and tried again. "Woods … I have questions."

"I figured that out already," he grumbled, though she could tell it wasn't malicious; it was lighthearted if anything.

She took that as permission to proceed. With wonder, she turned to look back at the cottage and the rest of the large field that surrounded it. "Is this where you live? Did you build it?"

He hesitated, as though unsure of how to answer. "Didn't expect that to be something you'd ask." He nodded. "Yes,I built it myself."

"But how has no one ever found you?" she asked curiously.

"For those that didn't know I existed, they had no reason to search. I'm far from civilization and prying eyes." He growled, "And for those that did know I exist … searching for me would have alerted others to my potential reality, and that's the last thing they wanted."

"The Star … they knew you were real …" she said, awaiting his confirmation.

He nodded again. "Yeah. But the fact of the matter is that I was more useful as a legend than a corpse. A body is something you have to acknowledge, to validate. A legend … you can simply call it wishful thinking."

He sighed. "Not anymore, though. Now that everyone knows I'm real, they'll be on the warpath for me." He shook his head scoldingly. "Stupid, stupid, stupid …"

"Then why'd you save me?"

His head turned towards her intimidatingly, but she didn't back down. "If you knew what repercussions would occur, why bother saving my life at all?"

"Would you've rather I not have?" he muttered.

She shook her head. "No, I'm grateful. I just don't understand your reasoning."

He waved his hand at her in a dismissive fashion. "I told you already, it's just old habits dying hard-"

"I don't believe you."

He stopped quite suddenly, and glared at her. "And why's that?"

"If you truly cared about staying hidden," she countered, "you wouldn't have come at all. Or at least, you would have remained hidden while doing so. And even then, you needn't have made a scene; you could have just run while the Stag was taking his time killing me."

"What's your point?"

She paused. "You were there to die."

He only held gazes with her for another moment before turning away silently, and she knew that she had guessed right.

"I'm not here to judge you," she quickly explained. "It's just … if you were planning on dying, then why even bother saving me? It wouldn't have mattered, I had nothing to do with you."

He took a deep breath, and let it out in a long sigh.

She tilted her head. "Long story?"

After a moment, he nodded. "Yeah. You could say that."

She decided that maybe she was pushing him a bit too far when it came to his suicidal tendencies. She thought back to her questions about the tale instead. "Your story, the one you were telling me … I still don't know who these people were, but you talk about them with such …"

Clara tried to think of a word to describe his tone; admiration? Regret? Pride? It was a massive mixture of emotions that constantly changed, and she couldn't settle for just one.

"What about them?"

She pressed on. "Who were they?"

He sighed. "We were friends. As close as people can be."

"Where are they now? Are they also in hiding, like you?"

He fell silent, the only noise present being the wind that cascaded over the surface of the snow.

"They're dead."

She had no response to that, having not expected such an answer.

"All of them?"

He nodded. "All of them."

She shrank a bit, feeling small at such a humbling revelation. "I … I'm sorry."

Nothing was said between them for a moment before a thought struck here. "Was … Was Matt the Hunter you talked about? The one I reminded you of?"

Woods took a moment to answer her. "Yes."

"How?"

Surprisingly, he stood up and began to walk towards the door. He pulled it open, and waited for her. She stared at him curiously.

"It's a long story," he supplied. She took the hint, and gestured towards the wilderness around them.

"I've got a lot of time."

He said nothing, but let out a content sigh. She felt that maybe … just maybe … he had a new purpose for the first time in a long time.

Without uttering a word, he entered and she followed in his wake.

* * *

 _ **A/N: 30 hour work weeks on top of a full college class schedule. Kill me now.**_

 _ **As I said, this is going to be a very long book; so don't get put off by all the setup I've been building. We're only just getting into the meat of the story, and there's a lot to tell. Might be awhile before anyone sees where this is going.**_

 _ **Until the next time,**_

 _ **\- Matteoarts**_


	10. Stolen

_He's nothing more than a thief. The one who stole it all away from me._

 _So, I've come up with a rather simple solution._

 _I'm going to steal it all back._

* * *

Clara looked to her midsection, where Ghost flitted about replacing the plating on her abdomen while she sat. He'd be at it for a while, since he seemed to be aiming for extreme precision with a healthy fear of messing up.

The Hunter grabbed a stool from a corner of the room, and brought it in front of her little cot next to the fire. With a tired groan, he sat down and looked at her.

"Let's get this out of the way; I'm not telling you this story because you asked me to," he iterated. "I'm telling you because … well, I've kept it to myself for a _very_ long time now. And it's become somewhat of a relief to have someone else know the truth."

She did not reply, but he could see the sparkle of curiosity in those blue eyes of hers.

"Before you can understand the impact of what happened, it's necessary for you to understand who these people _were_ … and _why_ they did what they did."

She tilted her head, and waited with anticipation.

"The six of them were known as 'the Legends' … somewhat of a fitting name for them now. Each of them had their own motivations and uniqueness that aided their contribution to the team."

His head wasn't looking directly at her; it seemed almost as if he was lost in thought, like he was trying to think of the most accurate descriptions he could. "Scorch, a Hunter. She was as young as she was headstrong. Always trying to tackle challenges far too large for her … but it only added to her character. She could be just as compassionate as she was stubborn when she wanted to be. She fought because it was her destiny."

"Aria, Warlock. Second to Scorch, she had been the youngest until the latter joined up. She was always so vibrant, and full of enthusiasm. She could get you excited about nearly anything, no matter how mundane it truly was. She was just as happy with her nose in a book as she was in the middle of a meadow … or a firefight. She fought to protect her home."

"Eager-11, a Warlock. He started out as a member of the City Task Force, back when it actually meant something. He wasn't originally a Guardian, but he became one out of necessity. I always found him to be a level-headed individual, cool under pressure and with little patience for nonsense. He fought out of necessity."

"Ash, a Titan … She …"

The Hunter took a moment of pause, and she waited patiently. Evidently, her profile was a bit more sensitive to him than others.

"… She and Matt were the first of the six to meet. From there came Aria, and then the other three. She fought out of loyalty. There's far too much to tell about her, too much for you to understand quite yet … perhaps she was the most tortured of any of them, in the end." He looked away. "Maybe even me."

She found it hard to believe that, considering what she now knew of the Hunter's history so far. But if it were true, then she did not envy the woman.

"Dawn, a clone of Ash … somewhat. Both were Exos, and Ash literally fragmented her mind in a cry for help. That fragment became Dawn, originally just a copy … but she developed her own personality, quirks, and friends. They were more like sisters than the same individual. She became her own person, and I always respected her for that. She fought because she was born for it."

He grunted. "And Matt … that Hunter I told you about."

She nodded eagerly.

"He was an outlier, someone from the past dragged into a fight that wasn't his, far in the future. But he made it his, adapting to his new life and friends as he was forced to leave his old ones behind. He was their leader … but he was not without flaws. He always tried to do too much, spread himself out too thin …"

Tentatively, she asked, "What did he fight for?"

He gave a deep sigh. "To protect the ones he loved, and never have to suffer through the death of a friend again."

A pause.

"In the end, he failed to protect them when they needed it most."

"Is that how they died?" she whispered.

He nodded. "That's how they died."

—X—

Immediately, purple energy began to flare up in Aria's hands. Eager took the hint, and allowed flames to spring up from his. Dawn seemed uneasy, and unwilling to move forward yet.

Scorch was astounded. "But … this guy died ten years ago! How is this possible?"

The Messenger gave a low-pitched giggle. He seemed to be more unhinged than the last time they'd encountered one another. "It's true, my body was nearly completely obliterated by him," he spat, his finger pointing accusingly at Matt. "But just as Guardians have the light to revive them … I had the Darkness. My soul remained, tethered to my place of death here in the ruins."

He waved his arm around at the scene of destruction around them. "It wasn't until the Fallen discovered something that I could be given yet a new chance at life. Something … beautiful." He shrugged. "Of course, that wasn't to say that it was all I needed. For starters, I needed a new body … or at least part of one."

Horror crept into Aria's voice as understanding swept through her. "Oh, God …"

Matt finally placed the pieces together. The white plates and blue eye, that was the Messenger's original body.

But that maroon plating and purple eye …

Scorch saw it too. _"… Rook?"_

"Did you know him? Oh, what a shame." The Messenger gave a mock expression of apology, half him and half Rook. His whole body was just one large horrific mesh of his original parts and Rook's.

Scorch's hands began to shake, and she sank to her knees in almost complete ignorance of their current situation. Matt didn't blame her. He knew that he'd been expecting to find a corpse … but not whatever this monstrosity was.

He was too dumbfounded to say anything. The disturbing nature of his new body aside, this was the man who'd nearly killed him, who'd come closer than anyone else ever had to extinguishing the light.

And he was back.

Next to him, Ash was having a similar reaction. But unlike him, she recovered slowly and took a cautious step forward.

"… Reynard?"

That smile on the abomination's face slowly dissipated. "You … ?"

She jumped on the opportunity. "We … we know the truth. We saw the tapes, the ones you made with Amelia and …" She paused, unsure of how to proceed.

"And you," he supplied, his tone changing into something more akin to hope.

"No," she confessed, "it was Sara who made those tapes."

His eyes narrowed. "What game is this? You are-"

She shook her head. "No. I am not Sara. Not anymore. She's dead. She gave her life to allow me to live when she crushed that crystal."

His discolored gaze met hers. "So … Sara is truly dead?"

It pained Matt to hear him say that; at the end of the day, both he and the Messenger were friends of the same woman, replaced with the one standing next to him. The difference was that Matt had accepted it, and moved on.

The Messenger, clearly, had not.

"Then I suppose that means that I have nothing left." His tone turned darker, and the red-rimmed grin returned. "Nothing to hold me back."

Matt held up his hands, opting to take a new approach then the one they'd entertained in the past. "Look, this doesn't need to end in bloodshed."

"Speak for yourself." Scorch's voice was low, and filled with rage. _"I'll kill him if it's the last thing I do!"_

"Dawn!" he called quickly, and without missing a step the Titan quickly wrapped her arms around her and kept her from charging forward as she'd just been about to. He knew enough about the Messenger to understand that even if he was potentially weakened, he was the most formidable foe they'd ever faced. He'd kill her easily.

" _Let me go!"_ she screamed, but Dawn did not give in. Assuring that she had control of the situation, Matt continued.

"I know your reasoning, I know what you've been through." He hated him, but he was willing to let it go for the sake of everyone's safety. "I had to go through it too … accepting that she was dead."

The Messenger tilted his head. "How … how do you know of Sara?"

Matt sighed. "I'm … I'm the one she waited for. The one she left behind when she died."

The red haze around the Messenger's purple and blue eyes glowed brighter as he widened the metallic caps. "You … you're Mathias?"

He nodded.

Unexpectedly, the Messenger gave a bark of laughter. "I'll be damned. This is more than fate, this is _destiny._ You and I, two sides of the same coin!"

"Please, we can just-" Matt tried again, but the Messenger cut him off.

"She waited for _years_ to see you again, only to break when she found you were dead." He shook his head. "Yet, you seem to have moved on quite well without her. You're not fit to speak her name."

Matt growled, quickly losing patience for the insane Exo. "You don't have to serve the Darkness any more! Look at what Sara did! What Amelia did! They-"

"This isn't about the Darkness any more," the Messenger cooly stated. "Every plot it's thrown at you has failed, it has given up trying to destroy the Traveler. Instead, it's set its sights on different prey."

"And that would be?"

That same red grin met them again, full of buzzing amidst the swarm that surrounded the Messenger's head.

"Revenge."

New swarms of that same red haze that surrounded the messenger sprung from his fists. They jumped at their feet, and began to form into miniature whirlwinds, crackling with red electricity.

The red clouds around them spun at ridiculously high velocities, and he had no doubt that if they touched the walls surrounding them they'd be shredded.

"You …" The Messenger began, his voice rising in volume. "You stole everything from me. Now …"

He tightened his hand into a fist. "I'm going to return the favor."

Without warning, his swarm spat him backwards onto the hard ground. He tumbled for a moment before landing flat on his stomach, and looking back at his imprisoned friends. With fear in his eyes, he looked towards the Messenger who pulled his hood forward and covered his face.

"The Fallen are just the first step. Soon, SIVA will find a home in all who serve the Darkness! And when that happens, you will know fear."

A red grid appeared, one that looked like some kind of corrupted transmat. It surrounded the Fallen, the Messenger and the other Legends as they slowly began to fade out of existence.

"If you want them back, you'll have to find them. And when you do, you'll lose … everything."

"NO!" Matt shouted, and he charged forward. But it was too late.

By the time he had reached them, they were gone.

Seraph materialized, and began rapidly scanning the area. "I can't trace them! That transmat had some kind of foreign signature, unknown. Whatever it is, it's blocking me out!"

He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself.

This moment had been coming a long time. No one had believed him, they thought he was paranoid. Now, he'd seen the consequences of being right firsthand.

But he was still free … which meant that the Messenger wanted him to find them. There was still a chance they could win.

He could still save them.


	11. Ghosts of Iron

_She was afraid._

 _Where was she? She searched for an answer, but all she could see was red._

 _She could not move. Her body did not respond to her commands, not anymore. She tried to run, to flee from whatever awful place this was, but to no avail._

 _Where were the others, the other four taken alongside her? She could not look, but she could still …_ _ **feel**_ _them._

 _She sent forth a few tentative touches, trying to probe where they might be. She recoiled when she saw that they were like her; trapped in this prison of red._

 _She could feel others, connected by a web of red tendrils and vines; the Fallen, though they did not view this as a prison. They remained in control, shared their body with this parasite rather than let it empty them of themselves._

 _And … others. Other allies of the Darkness, allowing themselves to be enhanced by this … this … red._

 _Was everything one and the same? Tied together by all the red?_

 _She did not know; but she kept her discovery to herself, in the event that it would be necessary for her._

 _For now, she would wait, and hide, and pray that there was still a way out of this._

* * *

"Matt!"

He pushed through the throngs of Guardians running from place to place around the Tower. He'd notified the Vanguard immediately of the Messenger's return, and that they needed to alert the Ciy to a possible outbreak of whatever that red stuff was.

No one had expected him to be right, and now they were paying the price.

Ash and the others more than anyone else.

Ash …

He clenched his hands tightly. He'd lost Sara, unable to save her as her own body slowly killed her.

He wasn't going to lose Ash as well.

"Slow down- wait!"

Seraph hovered after him, trying to calm him down. She didn't get it, didn't understand that he-

"Plan this through, you're not thinking clearly-"

He spun around on his heel, and spoke in lowered tones to the Ghost. "I'm thinking as clearly as I can right now. The Messenger challenged me to find them, and that's what I'm going to do. Every second we spend arguing about this here is another second closer to losing them forever."

She had no real response for that, having seen the reasoning behind his rashness now. "Well … how are you going to find them?"

He turned around again, heading for the Hangar. "Access every database that we have, I don't care if it's encrypted or if I have the proper clearance or not; make it work. Once you're in, look for any mention of what the Messenger called it; Seeva or something."

Not waiting for her to reply, he made his way through the corridor that lead to Amanda's realm. Stepping into the hangar, he spotted the Javelin nearby and walked briskly towards it.

He didn't bother with waiting for the boarding ramp to appear, and let Seraph simply materialize him directly into the cockpit. A grid of blue surrounded him, and he felt himself make contact with the pilot's chair a moment before he reached forward and flicked on the engines and other systems.

"There are no official documents on whatever this thing is," Seraph finally revealed, having been scouring the databases for information. "But … there's an interesting note that maybe has to do with what we're looking for."

"What is it?"

She pulsed. "It's from Lord Saladin."

He remembered the man from many years back, during the battle for the Traveler. He, Ash, and Aria had been too late to save him as he was killed by none other than the Messenger, his soul consumed by the Darkness of the Thorn. Maybe, even in death, he'd be able to spare them from his own fate.

"Nothing about this 'Seeva' thing, but it reads as follows; 'If the red plague has been unleashed, then you will find your answers at Felwinter peak. It is up to you.'"

The Ghost glanced at him. "From the sound of it, Saladin was familiar with whatever this thing was and left behind a note in case he wasn't able to stop it himself. Seeing as he's been dead for a decade, I guess it's up to us."

His fingers tightened around the stick of the controls. "I guess it is."

—X—

"Felwinter peak?"

The Hunter nodded solemnly. "Yes, the same one you and I met on."

Her metallic mouth twisted itself into an 'o,' her surprise written all over her face.

"When Mathias found it, it wasn't the populated top of the world you saw the other day," he continued. "It had long since been abandoned, untouched since Saladin had passed. And it was there that he was able to piece together what exactly he was up against."

"What was he up against?" she asked quietly.

"An abomination," he growled, "something with the capabilities of building worlds that was being used for nothing other than to tear them down."

He titled his head up slightly at her. "SIVA."

—X—

The wind howled loudly as snow gusted over the edges of the peak. Now that he was on the ground, Matt could see that it was some kind of observatory; perhaps an astronomy research station or similar. Obviously, it had been repurposed in the centuries after its initial use; a symbol could be seen emblazoned on the massive door that allowed entry, one of two hands holding an axe over a shield. He could only assume that it held meaning to Saladin.

Pressing on, he found himself in an courtyard, stone stairs and paths cut into the mountain. Ahead of him was a rather large structure, what appeared to be a temple fashioned from the infrastructure of the observatory. It wasn't long before he found himself in front of its massive set of doors, and he hurriedly pushed them open.

Surprisingly, they swung open without much resistance in spite of their weight. Evidently, whoever had constructed them had done a good job.

As he walked into the temple, he couldn't help but notice how dark it was. No one had been here for years, and it showed; he detected stale air and a slight draft that must have been coming from a crack somewhere in the walls.

"Seraph?" he whispered, and waited for the Ghost to materialize. Once she did, she hovered into the center of the room and pulsed brightly, emitting a rather illuminating aura of light. Finally, he was able to see a fire pit, waiting for someone to ignite it. Obliging, he summoned a small bit of solar energy and reached his hand out to spark it.

The room was immediately bathed in light, and they were able to see properly. Next to the pit were two statues of wolves, positioned as though they were encircling him. Not menacingly; but obediently.

He drew a sharp intake of breath upon seeing the many large statues of Guardians along the back wall, all in statures of nobility and esteem. His attention was quickly diverted, however, when he saw several technological plaques that hung upon the pillars that segregated the statues. They seemed to tell a story of some kind.

Seraph flew up to the first one, illuminating them and trying to garner some understanding from them. "They're not just pictures, they have retrievable data … according to these, this was the temple of the Iron Lords; one of the first major groups of Guardian alliances."

He raised an eyebrow. "First? How long ago did they live?"

"A few centuries at least," Seraph answered, sounding almost absentminded. "The Traveler did lengthen life-spans after all, but … most tend to let themselves go after they've experienced enough."

That made sense to him, people coming to terms with how long they'd lived and giving in; there was a reason Exo's chose to wipe their minds, after all. Sometimes living too long was a punishment rather than a gift.

"It seems that they discovered something in their journey to save humanity from the brink of extinction," she muttered. "A technology long-since forgotten from the Golden Age, guarded by the Warmind Rasputin."

If it was technology related, he had no doubt that Clovis Bray was somehow behind it. That research corporation had damn near invented the future with how many ideas were pumped out of it, not to mention their most notable achievement being the Exos.

"It was called … SIVA."

Matt nodded. "That's what we're after. What does it do, and how do we counter it?"

Seraph continued reading the plaques, hoping to find answers to his questions. "When they tried to retrieve it, Rasputin intervened. He killed many of them, and only a small handful made it into the core. Apparently, they'd been hoping to use SIVA to construct starships, help form colonies and methods to take back humanity's worlds. The only limit was the user's imagination …"

She shuddered. "But instead, it corrupted them, twisted them. It began to infect them one by one, turning them against one another until drastic measures were taken. Saladin himself was forced to kill his former friends to end their suffering before he sealed the core for good."

He swallowed hard, suddenly imagining himself in that same situation. They had to find the others _now._ "Then how is it back?"

She hovered to the next placard. "The core was just a general facility for testing and final inspection. What they encountered was a small strain of SIVA that had remained relatively unchanged other than its newfound aggression."

She paused. "But there is one place Saladin dared not venture into; an inner sanctum buried beneath Russia, what was apparently a manufacturing site for it, its very birthplace. Wherever that is, it would presumably hold the rest of SIVA's resources, the last existing strain that has quite possibly mutated over the centuries into something … horrific."

His eyes widened. "That's it now, isn't it? It's not just building or infecting anymore; the Fallen found it, and now it's meshing with them, enhancing them … they're able to _control_ it."

He turned away. "This isn't just revenge, even if the Messenger thinks it is; this is the final effort of the Darkness, its last push against the City. It can enhance its armies, give them another edge against us in the fight-"

Facing Seraph, he came to more startling realizations. "It won't need to destroy humanity if it can bend them to its will … what if it's going to set it loose against _us?_ The war would be over in a day. Less than that."

The Ghost blinked worriedly at him. "Well, what can we do?"

Quickly, he gave her orders; "Tell the Vanguard to begin monitoring activity on Mars and Venus. Let them know to be aware of any unusual activity indicative of the Vex or Cabal amassing anywhere, I don't think we'll have to worry about the Hive too much. Other than that, they need to be watching the walls and making sure that nothing gets in that can possibly infect the population."

She pulsed blue, and looked back at him. "Done. And … us?"

"We're going to find the others and the Messenger. And when we do …"

He held the Hawkmoon out in his right hand, spinning the barrel with a satisfying _click._

"I'm going to kill him."


	12. The Taken War

_**A/N: This chapter is what I told you all was going to happen a while ago; while it doesn't necessarily add much to the current story, it does cover the ONLY part of the Taken War that was even relatively impactful on GND's storyline. So, if it seems kind of 'out-of-the-way' or something, that's probably because it is. Hope you enjoy it anyway.**_

* * *

Woods took a moment to take pause and see how she was faring so far. Clara hoped he was able to see the wonder and intrigue in her features; she was truly immersed in his story.

After confirming that she was paying attention, he turned away to stare around at the walls of the cabin. She had the feeling that he hadn't had to talk to anyone in quite a long time, and was having difficulty making conversation other than his retelling of history. She decided to throw him a bone.

"So … I gather that Mathias cared about his friends a lot."

He stared at her blankly, his visor obscuring whatever face was behind the helmet. She felt as though he was nonverbally indicating that should have been obvious. She shrugged under his scrutiny and explained, "I mean, I just felt like commenting on it. Seems like it should be recognized."

He sighed. "Well, you're right. He- he cared more about them than they ever knew. Or maybe they did. I hope that's the case."

She nodded. "I'm sure it is. Especially for Ash; seems like he and her really were something. Best friends?"

"Lovers."

That surprised her, and her eyes widened momentarily. Upon reflection, she thought that maybe she should have seen the signs, but it seemed as though the Hunter had almost deliberately been avoiding telling her that.

"An Exo and a human?"

"Yes. What about it?" he muttered.

She was a bit unsettled by his tone. "Nothing, I just- I never considered such a possibility. I would have thought that a relationship like that would be looked down upon."

He nodded understandingly. "You would be right. For a time, anyway. Once they sealed the bond between the two of them, there wasn't much anyone could really do except adapt to-"

"Sealed the bond?" she interrupted curiously.

He waved his hand dismissively. "You know, married each other."

Now her eyes widened further. "They even married?"

He thought for a moment that she was expressing ridicule. "I get that the notion is abnormal-"

"They must have really loved each other."

He fell silent, unsure of how to react to her sentiment. After a moment, he nodded. "Yes. They did."

She leaned forward as Ghost watched them with intrigue. Even the Hunter's Ghost materialized and paid apt attention to Woods, encouraging him to expand upon what he'd just said.

He gave a small chuckle, a fond memory crossing his mind. "I don't suppose you'd like to hear how that happened?"

With a small smile on her face, Clara nodded slightly.

He sighed, but not with weariness; more like a pleasant breath of satisfaction.

"Thought you might."

* * *

 **THE DREADNAUGHT, MANY YEARS AGO**

* * *

" _You know,"_ yelled Dawn as she narrowly avoided a burst of flame from a Taken Knight, _"when I heard he was called, 'the Taken King,' I didn't actually think he'd be the Taken King!"_ Raising her aim up as she came out of her roll, she landed a few shots right between her attacker's eyes.

Matt had to agree with her; he'd figured that it was just a title for the fact that Oryx ruled the Taken in some twisted form of a monarchy. But after they'd defeated him the first time, the Hive-god had used his own power on himself and disappeared into his throne-world.

Now, they were battling a massive white and black Taken incarnation of their former enemy, and he was a much more formidable foe than he'd been before.

Around the Dreadnaught, a dogfight between the Reef's, City's, and Hive's ships was taking place. While they tried to prevent the Dreadnaught from making it any further towards Earth, the Legends' job was to take out the King. And so here they were. Problem was, Matt wasn't sure they were going to last much longer.

Flowers of fire and metal blossomed out in the asteroid belt as ally and enemy ships alike tore each other apart. Here, in this final encounter aboard what seemed to be the top of the ship, they had quite the view of the explosions.

And they weren't faring much better in here; in his throne world, Oryx could only be killed by an Ascendant Hive. Considering that business when they'd killed Crota, they all counted as Ascendant and any of them could take the shot; problem was that making that shot was increasingly difficult. His power over the Darkness was too strong to be killed by anything other than a massive amount of light to counteract him.

Trying to channel all of that into him was taking a lot of time that they didn't have, and energy that they were quickly losing. Their speed was waning as they continued to constantly dodge and try to press the advantage only to be forced back time and time again.

" _Don't know-"_ grunted Scorch from off to his left, _"how long- we can- keep this-"_

A Taken Thrall appears next to her in a flash, and extended its claws to cleave off what it could. Ducking backwards, she barely managed to evade and shove her knife into its gaseous skull. It dematerialized into a point of light with an ethereal scream, and was no more.

" _Look out!"_ yelled a familiar voice from off to his right, and he felt himself get shoved down as someone jumped on top of him. A moment later, a blast of fire went soaring right through where his head had been a moment ago.

Ash rolled off of him, and planted a Ward of Dawn around them. As he watched, enemy projectiles kept raining down upon it, trying to break it apart. Ash groaned, her concentration faltering as she tried to hold everything together.

Oryx waved one of his hands and blasted it with a pulse of dark energy. It shattered, and Ash crumpled to the ground in a daze. Dawn immediately moved to pick up the slack, raising her own shield around them as Ash's dissipated.

Matt moved to her side, grabbing her firmly and trying to lift her onto her feet. Their fight wasn't over yet … but he feared it might soon be.

Her visor depolarized, and he saw a look on her face that told him she felt the same; that maybe this was it.

If it was … then he didn't want to leave anything unsaid.

" _Get … ready … guys!"_ Dawn grunted, finally giving way and releasing her strength. At once, enemies surged forward on all sides.

"Ash," Matt began, trying to multitask as he spoke and combated the Taken simultaneously, "listen; there's been something I've been meaning to ask you-"

" _On your right!"_ shouted Eager, and he quickly adjusted to dispatch of the Acolyte that had almost taken a potshot at them.

" _What is it?"_ she called back.

"Well," he started nervously; this hadn't been the situation he'd planned to do this in. "You and I have been together for a few years now-"

He heard murmurs over the comms as the others tried to figure out exactly what he was going on about, as if this wasn't awkward enough.

"And I've been wanting to ask you this for a while, but I just never felt it was the right time-"

" _Oh you've got to be kidding me,"_ he caught Eager groan as he realized what Matt was doing. _"Is this really the best time for this?!"_

Ignoring the Exo, he pressed on hastily. "But if we don't make it out of this, then I don't wan to die without at least having asked you-"

" _Is this happening?!"_ Aria exclaimed in both excitement and consternation, _"Why did it take you so long to ask?!"_

"Shut it!" he ordered to the Warlock, hoping to retain at least _some_ shred of dignity. "Look, I just- I truly love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you-"

" _Which may not be very long-"_

"-and I was wondering if, assuming we survive this, you … would you marry me?"

Ash had remained silent throughout the entirety of his speech, and continued to do so now. Turning around to look at why she wasn't responding, he saw that she had disappeared altogether.

"Where is she?!" he called out, now with the rest of them turning to look at where she'd gone as well.

" _I don't know, there's no sign of-"_

Scorch's comm cut out unexpectedly, and he spun to see that she too had vanished. Gripping his weapon tightly, he prepared for whatever threat was facing them now-

He felt himself get pulled out of reality briefly, and then thrown into … somewhere. Nowhere. A void of some kind. Looking around, he saw a ring of white fire surrounding him, and nothing but fog beyond that-

Hearing a roar of anger, he rotated to see Scorch and Ash battling against what appeared to be some Echo of Oryx. Was this what they needed to defeat in order to kill Oryx?

The Hunter noticed him, and beckoned her head towards the Echo. _"A little help?!"_

He quickly leapt into action, emptying his chamber into the beast. It didn't do much other than to piss it off, and it lashed out by moving startling quick towards him and swinging a massive blade downward.

He dodged just in time to see Eager appear, and spin around in confusion. _"What's going-? Oh, shit!"_

The Warlock retreated towards Scorch and Ash who were moving up to support Matt. Rolling away towards them, he was able to see Dawn and Aria pop into existence as well. The two of them looked quite confused before glancing towards the others and seeing their predicament.

With another roar, the Echo swung the blade downward and sank it into the ground with an air of finality. It began to glow, and the white fire began to ominously turn red.

All six of them felt the same pain that they'd felt when Crota has called upon his oversoul. They tried to hold their composure, but buckled under the strain.

" _Matt!"_

He tried to hold himself together enough to look to where Ash was crawling forward on the ground, extending her hand towards him. She wanted him to take it.

Slowly, he resisted through the pain and clasped hers hand tightly. At least they had one another-

Using his hand as leverage, she pulled herself forward to gain even the slightest bit of speed. Landing on her hands and feet, she used what was left of her remaining energy to jump into the air and slam her fists into the Echo.

Arcs of lighting traveled from her hands into the Echo's form, and it gave a cry of pain as it began to burn away into ashes. As he watched, the void around them began to glow brighter, and brighter, and-

With a flash, they were back in proper reality. Glancing around confusedly, Matt's attention was drawn to the sight of Oryx hunching over himself, gripping his chest as it glowed a bright white. The light continued to expand until a massive shockwave erupted from his torso, and knocked all of them onto their backs.

When he managed to stand again, he saw what was left of Oryx's corpse slowly drifting away from the Dreadnaught, towards the body of Saturn where it would spend an eternity frozen in the vacuum of space.

Looking towards the dogfight outside, the Hive understandably ceased their attack and began to retreat to safety. Their King was dead; there was nothing left for them to die for.

"Is that it, then?" Dawn waved her hands in an expectant gesture, as though waiting for something else to happen.

Wanting to see Oryx's death with his own eyes, Matt pulled off his helmet and inhaled the stale, rotting air of the Dreadnaught. This time, he did so with satisfaction. "That's it."

"Not quite," came a voice from his side. He saw Ash walking towards him, her helmet gone as well.

Without waiting for him to understand, she grabbed the collar of his armor and pulled him down to her for a kiss. He was stunned into inaction by her boldness before she separated and smiled.

" _Yes."_

Understanding dawning in his mind, he returned her smile and embraced her tightly.

This was going to be quite the story to tell later.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Aaaaaaand that's basically the only important part of the Taken War that I was going to write. Like I've said, there wasn't much that its storyline could add to the overarching plot of GND, so that's the main reason I cut it out.**_

 _ **Sorry for the delay between updates; I hope that the fluff in here makes up for it. Plus, we're getting back to normal length chapters now. Next one will be continuing the current story of the Last Hunter and Clara.**_

 _ **Reviews are always appreciated!**_

 _ **Until the next time,**_

 _ **\- Matteoarts**_


	13. A Debt Repaid

" _So … it just gave it to you?"_

" _Well, I mean, I_ _ **did**_ _have to kill a baron for it … but yeah, basically."_

" _I've certainly never seen one of the Fallen do something like that …"_

" _Well, we're usually not saving their lives; more often then not, we're the ones killing them."_

" _That's a fair point."_

" _So what do you think it means?"_

" _Might mean nothing. But … I've got a feeling."_

" _Yeah?"_

" _The Kings are definitely more … well, noble than the other houses, not to poke fun at their name. They don't just scavenge around looking for tech to add to their arsenal, and they're not banished exiles living on a dead rock. They have pride, they keep to themselves, and they're smart."_

" _What's your point?"_

" _Ultimately, I think that they'll do whatever gets them the farthest in the long run. And if that means repaying a debt to a Guardian that saved their life … then that's what will happen."_

" _So …?"_

" _I think it's a promise. That if and when I need help … they'll be there for me."_

" _That's a nice sentiment, but I can't imagine a scenario where we'll need to count on the help of the Kings."_

" _You never know."_

* * *

 **KINGS' WATCH, THE COSMODROME**

* * *

The Guardian walked through their territory, unintimidated and undeterred by the various decorations of Hive and human skulls alike, stuck upon metal spits as trophies for all to see. Did they not know that this was dangerous terrain for anyone other than Eliksni?

As the first line of scouts waited unseen in the shadows, the Guardian stopped and glanced around at them with steel in their gaze. They were not used to this show of behavior from a foe.

As he mulled on that thought, he decided to call them out. "Seraph, translate for me."

The Ghost waited on his word, ready to speak on his behalf to the Kings.

"Kings," Matt called, "I know you surround me, and are wondering why I've come to you. I demand to speak to one of your Barons, one who was saved by a Guardian several years ago." Seraph emitted croak-like noises, the tongue of the Fallen.

No response came. He clenched his jaw. "I do not seek a fight with you. But if you do not bring him to me, I will find him myself."

At that, he heard the sound of soft hissing that was so signature to the Fallen from the debris and rocks around him. So far, he could spot several cloaked individuals already, as well as a few pairs of eyes glowing in the cover of shadows.

He held his ground, and waited.

Apparently, something he said must have worked. It wasn't a minute before a larger Fallen emerged from the dilapidated buildings, and approached him with suspicion in its eyes. After coming to a stop, it stared at him and Seraph before yelling incoherently at the Ghost.

"His name is Paskin, and he demands that you get on with it," she explained. "He doesn't appreciate you summoning him."

Heeding her advice, he drew Aria's shock-blade from his side slowly, and held it out for the Baron to see. Paskin's body lost the tense rage that had been prevalent in his behavior, and stared at the weapon as he remembered its story. Taking a risk, Matt presented it to him, and allowed the Baron to hold it in his own grasp. Paskin maneuvered it in his clawed hands, inspecting it as one would a memento.

Finally, he chittered to Matt in a much less hostile tone.

"He remembers the blade, as well as the Guardian he gave it to. She saved his life, and that's not a debt he took lightly. He wants to know where she is, and why you're here in her place."

He nodded. "She, as well as a few others, were taken by the Messenger and the Devils who brought him back with SIVA."

The Baron seemed taken aback at the news, dumbfounded even. "He had no idea that the Messenger had returned, but he does not know what SIVA is."

"A disease," replied Matt, "a red plague that has been discovered by them, and threatens to unleash itself upon everything."

Now, there was a look of understanding in the Fallen's eyes, and he hissed softly. "The Kings' do not align themselves with the Devils, and therefore are not certain of anything … but they've heard the rumors amongst the sects of different Houses, and seen the hints of what you speak of in the lands they dare not enter."

"What lands?"

"The Plaguelands, as they're colloquially known. They lie beyond the cosmodrome, corrupted by the sickness you seek. The Devils have made it their home, growing more twisted with every passing day. The Kings may be powerful … but one does not survive through brawn alone. They're smart enough to stay out, lest they risk the wrath of whatever disturbing weapon the Splicers have found themselves."

"Splicers?" He was beginning to think that the Baron was giving him more questions than answers.

"A type of faction within each House of Fallen, technology manipulators. They're the ones who mess around with stuff they're probably not supposed to mention. And it seems that the Devils' are the ones who got their hands on SIVA first."

He tightened his fists. If the Splicers were experimenting with SIVA further, they might eventually learn to adapt it to an even greater degree of destruction. It looked like his fears about SIVA spreading to other armies of the Darkness weren't unfounded.

"The core is sealed away for good; that sanctum you mentioned has to be where Aria and the others are. Where did the Devils go to find the sanctum?"

She relayed the question to Paskin who looked at Matt.

"All he knows is that the Devils blew a rather sizable hole in the wall several miles from our position. Underneath that, they found … something evil."

The Baron continued, and Seraph pulsed with concentration. "The Fallen served the Darkness in the hope of reclaiming the Traveler and their lost civilization from centuries ago. The Kings know now that the Darkness has its own agenda, and they do not mind providing you with this information in the hopes of stopping whatever plan it has now. After that, his debt is repaid."

Paskin pointed eastward, over the mountains of rubble and towards the wall that stretched high into the sky. "He says that it's in that direction. If the Devils took them anywhere, it would be there."

Slowly, the Baron turned and began to walk away. After a few paces, he stopped and gave one last parting chitter.

"Ordinarily, he wouldn't think that we have a chance. But … Guardians have surprised him before."

Finally, the Baron and the rest of the Kings left Matt alone with his Ghost and the inklings of a plan.

"So we know where the sanctum is," Seraph muttered. "What are you thinking?"

He rotated around to look at the direction in which Paskin had pointed them. Silently, he walked back towards their ship a few hundred yards away. She was surprised by his mute temperament.

"Matt?"

He paused, and looked back at her. "Seraph … this is it. The final push of the Darkness. Something I've been dreading for years, and- and I don't know if I'm ready."

She hovered closer, hanging onto his every word.

"If we don't stop it, then humanity is at risk once again. But this time, there's no escape. We don't know of a way to counteract this stuff, even if there is one. At this point, I'm making this up as I go. I'm going to go down there, and I'm going to kill the Messenger. But then … what?"

He shook his head. "Will that save them? Can they even be saved? What about the City? I just … I don't know."

Quietly, she flew over to him and spoke with comfort and determination in her voice. "Whatever happens, we'll face it together. I've been with you since the beginning, and I'm not going anywhere now. Okay?"

After a moment, he nodded appreciatively and continued his progress towards the Javelin.

It was time to finish this.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Hey guys, sorry for the short update. Just no other way to lengthen this chapter without dragging it out.**_

 _ **The good news is that the next few chapters will all be full to the brim of content and action. Don't worry though; we're still nowhere near the end. Like I said, this one's a massive book.**_

 _ **Until the next time,**_

 _ **\- Matteoarts**_


	14. Shadow of the Sanctum

_I remember when I first made love._

 _The emotional and physical closeness of another, to literally and spiritually become one with someone; to take two halves and join them together in a bond so deep that it seals their souls into one mind, one thought, one life together … it is an act of the utmost intimacy, one that many strive for but may never truly achieve in their lifetime._

 _I recall how cold it had been that night. The sheets were nothing compared to the warmth of his body, providing me with a sense of comfort that I had never known I'd needed. In my mind, I thought that this was the ultimate form of validation; to have someone want you, to have someone need you, to have someone become your other half._

 _In a sense, the red is making love to me now._

 _It is close, pressing in around me everywhere; in my body, in my mind. It has taken this act of boundless intimacy, one that I cherished, and corrupted it to its own depraved purposes. It has joined us through a bond of death, so that one cannot live without the other. We have become one not by merging the two of us into one new entity, but rather by it consuming me and reshaping me into its image._

 _The red wants me. The red needs me. And it has become my other half; but it has done so through oppression, not consent._

 _This is the only love it knows, and so it has become that this is the only love I know; the love of the red as it forces itself upon my mind, body, and soul, my only purpose in existence now to be its pawn, a tool of its perverse machinations._

 _I scream, but no sound escapes me. I am no longer the master of my destiny._

 _The red is._

* * *

The Javelin circled around the scene of destruction with caution. Below them was the massive blast site that Paskin had warned them about, where an incredibly large section of the wall had been blown away to reveal what they'd been searching for; something to do with the sanctum.

Matt stared at the monitors of the Javelin's cockpit, analyzing the area with great scrutiny. The wreckage of the wall lay scattered across hundreds of meters in any direction, with a great majority of it stretching to the interior rather than outward. Parts of it were sunken beneath the surface of the sea, while smaller, more shrapnel-like chunks had washed up on the beaches some distance away.

But that wasn't what they were after, no. Their target was below, where the wall had once remained intact. Beneath where this section of the wall had once stood, a plateau of rock stood above the vast expanse of sea and almost beckoned to them with its defiance to the rest of its environment. Along a narrow path that it led down, one could see that the mountainous foundation upon which the other side of the wall resided on was cracked open. A cave-like entrance awaited their arrival, but nothing beyond the first few meters could be seen from up here in the Javelin.

Sighing, he let go of the controls and trusted Seraph to keep them steady in the air until they were clear of the ship. At his presence, the docking ramp of the ship descended and allowed him access to the open air. He took a few tentative steps forward, trying to picture his jump before going through with it. When he was satisfied with the trajectory he'd chosen, he took a deep breath and leapt off the ramp.

The air around him screamed as he tore through it, streaking downward with as little wind resistance as he could manage. The ship pulled away and into the upper atmosphere where it would wait until he returned.

 _If_ he returned.

His descent coming to an end, he channeled as much of his shields into his feet as he could, and angled himself properly to absorb the impact. He may not have thrusters like a Titan or Warlock, but that was a Hunter's strength; they found workarounds for their flaws in their wit.

The ground rushed up to meet him, and all of his momentum was dispersed through the shields and into the ground beneath him. It shook slightly from the force, but other than that remained as it was. He stood up from his kneeling position and checked his systems to make sure they were all in order. As far as he could tell, no damage had been done.

Now ready to proceed, he stared ahead at the cave into which he'd be entering. Seraph appeared next to him, and glanced at him out of the corner of her blue eye.

"Like I said; together."

He took a deep breath to steady his nerves again. Among his emotions were fear, rage, and desperation, none of which would help him to succeed. He needed a cool head, and a steady hand.

"Together."

Stepping forward, he walked across the thin bridge of rock that connected this outcrop to the main body of rock that the cave led into. Upon venturing a few meters past the initial walls of the entrance, he found that a hole had been carved downward into the ground, unknown depths waiting for someone to delve into them. Hesitation absent in his behavior, he took the plunge.

This time, rather than using his shielding to absorb the impact, he held onto the natural curves of the hole as it rounded every so often, using his hand to guide his body down without hitting anything and his feet to scrape along the side and slow his descent when necessary. Finally, it evened into a straight drop and he fell for several meters into the open air of a large cavern before his feet made contact with the ground and he bent low to brace against his fall. Standing once more, he took the time to examine his surroundings with care.

The open cave into which he'd fallen was rather ordinary, even if unusually large. The only remarkable thing about it was the wreckage of what appeared to be part of a Warmind bunker, or at least some kind of structure with the same sort of structure and appearance that they held, built into the rock. Black panels and silver struts lay cast aside as the Fallen had presumably torn into the side of what they could see until they finally revealed an entrance.

The sanctum awaited.

—X—

The Hunter gave a tired sigh, and looked out the large window of the cabin. Clara followed his gaze, noting that it was getting dark out and there wasn't really much to look at outside. This gave her the idea that maybe he was just trying to _appear_ like he was looking at something; did he not want to continue?

"Are you alright?" she asked softly, her concern for his mental health only becoming more genuine with every day she spent with him.

He did not answer her, not at first. It took him another minute before he inhaled sharply, and rotated his masked head to stare at her once more. "Yes. I'm sorry, it's just- well, none of this is really pleasant to think about."

She mulled that over, having to retell a story of your friend's doomed journey to rescue his friends. Living through it must have been bad enough, but it was Woods who apparently drew the short stick; all of the others were dead now, and he was just left to carry on their memory in a world that didn't care to remember them.

"If you don't want to keep going, you can stop-"

"No, it's not that," he quickly replied, dismissing her offer. "I just needed a minute. I think you're right, I- I think I've been needing to tell someone about this for a long time now."

She stared at him innocently, still unwilling to push him into something he didn't want to do. He saw it in her eyes, her reluctance to bring him any distress, and he chuckled lightly.

"Honestly, it's alright. Now, where was I?"

—X—

He clambered over the rocks and into the rhombus-shaped hallway that was so common amongst these kinds of bunkers. Only this one wasn't well-lit and illuminated with blue lighting like the others he'd visited. Instead, almost every panel and tile on the walls and floor was black, and there was an almost hazy fog that enveloped everywhere he walked. It was not visible immediately, but could rather be seen on the edges of his vision as well as farther distances in front of him.

Dammit, he didn't like anything about this.

Seraph hovered close to him, unwilling to venture far from safety in such an ominous location. "So, uh … this is terrifying. I know you said you were making this up as you go, but you have to have _some_ semblance of a plan by now, right?"

He was unsure of how to answer her; indeed, his mind had been turning certain ideas over in his head but he was unsure of how well they would play out in practice. He decided to elaborate as they walked, hoping that if anything it would help him to solidify a proper plan of action.

"Well, we know that the Messenger expects me to find him; so I have a good feeling that he's prepared for anything I can think of." He shrugged, though he was much more uneasy than the nervous facade he was presenting to her. "Not much we can do about that. But if he's really planning to spread this to the rest of the Darkness's armies, then be prepared for us to be facing a bit more than Fallen down here."

She looked at him in worry. "And … what about the others?"

His heart ached at the thought of what the Messenger could have done to them … but he knew what the most likely outcome was. Rather than answering, he kept silent to avoid from having to voice it aloud.

Seraph understood the gist of his fears from that silence, and looked down dejectedly. "Matt … you don't think-"

"The fact of the matter is that we can't let the Messenger move forward with this attack," he said with gritted teeth. "If SIVA's let loose upon the City, it's all over. We have to stop him … no matter the cost."

She was shocked by that sentiment. "After all these years of trying so hard to protect everyone … you're willing to give up on them?"

He was shaking his head before she'd even finished her sentence. "Not a chance. I just know that breaking down isn't going to give me a better chance of rescuing them. If we're going to pull this off, we need all of our wits about us. I'd rather be braced for the worst and be right than have unrealistic hope and be crushed."

He gave a wavering sigh, his voice trembling in spite of his words. "But that doesn't mean that I'm not still desperately hoping that they're alive."

Seraph had no answer for that, and decided to just stay silent.

A door slid open with a smooth scrape of metal, and they walked through cautiously. Before moving on, Matt made sure to check their surroundings for any infected Fallen that may have been awaiting them. Thankfully, all was silent.

"What is this place?"

He turned to get a better look at the room upon hearing the Ghost's question, and furrowed his brow. A single path led forward before splitting, with every side and space not on the path taken up by rectangular pillars that connected the floor to the ceiling. But they didn't look like they were there for structural support; lights winked in and out of existence along their exteriors, and they seemed to be more machine-oriented than they appeared at first glance.

"I don't know," he muttered, "but I'm more worried about what those things are."

They meandered along the path, erring on the side of vigilance around the pillars. He glanced at a few of them, noting that most of them had glass containers built into them, little flowers of that same red growth that was signature of SIVA blooming inside of them. With a bit more fear, he realized that some of them were broken and their contents were gone.

"Mathias?" Seraph whispered with an unsettled edge in her tone. She never used his full first name, not unless she was discussing something with a deadly seriousness … or deadly level of fear. "What the hell is this?"

He remembered an image from long ago, and compared the similarities to the room they were standing in now. The only differences appeared to be their purpose. "They're servers, data servers; but they're not just being used for software or storage … you said that the sanctum was the birthplace of SIVA?"

"That's right," she confirmed, her voice still wavering. "What about it?"

"Well," he murmured, tension creeping into his own, "I think that this is some kind of server farm, and it's growing strains of SIVA."

But why would SIVA need to grow? Was it organic? Everything about this plague took what he knew and flipped it on its head. If it had been designed as a tool to be wielded, how had it become the one now wielding those it merged with?

They left the path, this room turning into another with a massive black and red rhombus taking up the center of the room. Catwalks split along the side of it, allowing passage around the enormous anomaly. Red SIVA-fied cables and wires stretched out of the bottom and into the floor, giving it the appearance of a grotesque bud. As they continued beyond it and into the next hallway, he tried to make some sense of all this.

Due to its nature, he was sure that it had a certain 'programmable' aspect to it; otherwise, it wouldn't have been promoted as a tool like Seraph had stated its original intent had been. You couldn't properly command something without some sense of control over it.

He looked at the Ghost hovering next to him, a line of thought crossing his mind. Seraph was definitely not organic, but she was certainly alive. She'd been born from within the Traveler, a combination of metal and light. The thing that separated her from a machine was that she had a mind of her own, thoughts and ideas that belonged to her.

Inside those glass containers, the SIVA sprouts had been grown from hundreds of different variations and experimentations, potentially for many different purposes. The relationship between a user and tool was simple; a tool had power, but could not use itself, and a user did not have power but could use a tool to harness it.

So what would happen if the tool was given a mind?

He couldn't imagine that SIVA was inherently some weapon of the Darkness; but if Ghosts could be created from metal and light … who was to say that, out of all these hundreds of different variants, one of them had meshed its code with … something else?

Nothing was certain, whatever had happened was the result of a process that took place over thousands of years. But if he was right, and this mutated form of SIVA that the Messenger and his allies were using was more than what it appeared to be … then perhaps things were worse than even he'd foreseen-

The final door of their passage slid open, the sight taking away any thought he had in his mind.

The chamber they'd entered was easily more than a kilometer in width, length, and height. He couldn't even properly see the walls of it due to an ominous fog and red lighting that hit it, obscuring a clear view of the absurdly large room- if one could even call it a room, the word hardly gave an accurate description of the place's enormity.

In front of them, a single stairway held up by thick cables awaited them, leading down into the center of the room where a diamond-shaped facility awaited them, a monumental-sized version of the smaller caps that grew along SIVA tendrils. He knew what this capsule of containment truly was.

They'd reached the sanctum.

* * *

 _ **A/N: We are reaching the end of the first arc … and now we're somewhere around just before the halfway point of the book.**_

 _ **I hate to do this, but I'm going to be taking a slight hiatus to focus on work and a film project of mine; hopefully I can finish the film and free up some more time for this.**_

 _ **Let me know in the reviews what your thoughts are so far, and any predictions you might have; is this how it all ends? Can he save everyone, or even anyone? What about the Trinary Star, and their whereabouts while the Last Hunter is relaying all this to Clara?**_

 _ **That's the cool thing about this book; it's two different worlds in one, and both of them come with conflicts aplenty.**_

 _ **Until the next time,**_

 _ **\- Matteoarts**_


	15. Hopeless

_He was here._

 _She wanted to cry out, to urge him to run far from this hell, but her voice had been stolen by the red._

 _All she could do was watch as he approached the red's vilest lair, unable to forewarn him of the plot that was yet to unfold if he continued. The trap had been set with them as the lure._

 _The Messenger had never intended for there to be a solution, he only wanted to sweeten his victory through the Hunter's failure._

 _There was no happy ending possible, she knew that now; the only conclusion would be one of devastation. There was no way to win, no reality where they would come out on top-_

 _Out of the red appeared an anomaly, a- thing- that did not belong here. It whispered to her, fed her words that warped her mind and clouded her thoughts. She felt that this anomaly was familiar, though she could not place how …_

 _A little blue light._

…

 _No. There was a way. Or rather, there was a reality where every outcome resulted in triumph._

 _Reaching out through the tendrils and bonds that tethered her to the red's many conquests, she found machines of time and reality, altering themselves to enhance their prowess tenfold. But even they did not realize the power they could wield through the combined efforts of thought and the red …_

 _As mere machines themselves, they formed no real innovative goals; all they wanted was to survive, even through the end of the universe itself. They didn't think out of curiosity, only out of necessity._

 _She did not have that limitation._

 _She barely had the framework of an idea, let alone a real chance of accomplishing it. But she had no choice other than to try; the others had all but succumbed to the coaxing of the red. She could feel them with her, connected to her just as every other extension of the red._

 _Why was she left? Was she simply stronger than the others? Or, as she began to suspect, had she been chosen specifically for this? But what WAS this?_

 _Destiny._

 _She had to work quickly if any hope of survival was to remain; the red asserted one mind over them, but she did not conform. She was permitted to retain her sense of individuality, her own reasoning. She did not know why, but she would certainly take every advantage she was offered here._

 _Who was she?_

 _She was an Exo, one who had defied what was expected of her and fallen in love with a human._

 _She was Ash, one of the Legends sworn to defend humanity from all forces of the Darkness._

 _But she was certainly not another goddamn tool for the red to manipulate and control._

 _As it anticipated the Hunter's arrival, she began to spread herself- to multiply and grow just as it had done. She had no chance of expanding herself as much as the red had, but she could simply convert that which it had taken over._

 _She only hoped that he would buy enough time for her to succeed._

* * *

The floor illuminated wherever he stepped, one large chamber of emptiness. His footsteps echoed off the walls, the only sound in the silence beside his beating heart.

In the center was a hole, a cubic shaft that led down into open air. Below, Matt could see a dimly lit area of some kind; it wasn't much to go on, but at least he knew there was a floor he could land on.

Stepping forward, he let himself fall through the air to the ground below. Redirecting his shields once more, he absorbed the impact and landed in a kneeling stance for ultimate stability.

He'd barely had a second to regain his breath and begin to stand upright before he heard a loud, slow, and emphatic clap emit from several yards in front of him. Where it came from was pitch black, but he had a good enough idea to guess who it was.

He was proven right as a figure emerged from the shadows, sporting a crooked grin that spanned two separate sets of facial features. Those glowing red eyes stared at him with with contempt and dark satisfaction at the Hunter's arrival.

"What a creature you are," the Messenger remarked. "After stealing your loved ones, challenging you without any disguise to my intentions, and even after I personally assured you that you'd fail … here you are."

The horrifically meshed Exo laughed. "You're such a slave to your emotions, to your desire to help. I presented you with an enemy, and you came running like the simple-minded lapdog you are."

Stepping forward, he aimed a punch at Matt. It connected hard with the side of his helmet, just as the two of them had known it would.

For as long as the Messenger had control of the situation, he couldn't do anything if it meant jeopardizing the situation.

Raising his head calmly, he faced the servant of the Darkness once more.

"Is it really some ridiculous sense of altruism that drives you?" Another swing forced Matt's head to snap backwards, stunned by the power behind the blows. "Or is it a more selfish need to have some kind of threat for you to conquer? A narcissistic desire to be the center of your own story, a compulsive need to fight because you can't stand the true nature of a peaceful life?"

One final blow knocked him to the floor, head rattling and his vision swimming. Still, he said not a word.

The Messenger sighed. "You're pathetic is what you are. I can't believe-" he tried to say, but fell into a chuckle. "I honestly can't believe you're the same Mathias that Sara spoke of. You were her whole world, you know. The entire reason she even agreed to become an Exo; all so that she could share the rest of her life with you."

Matt tried to remain silent, but he found himself groaning from both the physical and emotional pain being thrust at him. He shut his eyes tightly, wetness beginning to from in their corners.

"The way she spoke of you, one would have pictured you to be some monumental giant, a light to which others could aspire to be." Looking down at the shaking Hunter on the ground, he sneered. "But you're none of that, are you? You're just a weak, pitiful excuse for a man who could never hope to be worthy of her affections."

Bringing his leg back, he directed a kick brutally into Matt's side and sent the Hunter rolling. Feebly, he tried to raise himself off the ground but was forced back into it by the weight of the Messenger's foot on his back.

Leaning down, the Exo whispered, "You didn't deserve her. And you don't deserve this life you've built for yourself."

Instead of continuing to beat him, the Messenger finally walked back towards the shadows as he talked. "She never forgot you for as long as she lived; not when we left the Clovis Bray facility, not when we were harassed by the rest of humanity for our inorganic nature, not when we were resurrected by the Darkness, never. Yet, you've left her behind in your past and even advised me to do as you've done. What was the phrasing you used- 'accept she's dead'?"

Groggily, Matt tried to stand back up as his rival glowered.

"Well, maybe you'll think differently when your new life is the one being torn apart." The Messenger raised his arms, and the lights flickered on to illuminate their surroundings. Clutching his abdomen, Matt looked on in horror.

He'd thought that the two of them were alone; not because he hadn't expected others, but because he hadn't believed it possible for so many beings to be so silent in the darkness.

He stood on the median of three levels of platforms; in front of him was the Messenger on the bottom level, straight in the center of the gargantuan chamber. The two other platforms to his left and right shared the same level, stretching forward and to the sides of the room. And covering almost every foot of them were SIVA-infected minions. Counting them was useless, they were innumerable.

Fallen. Various Hive. A few lumbering Cabal soldiers. Waves of Vex.

All of them swarming with clouds of red nanites, infecting every pore and nerve of their bodies.

Were they even themselves anymore? Had every example here willingly converted? Or had they been forced, as was the way that the Darkness tended to move things along?

"Don't worry," crooned the Messenger, "they're not here for you. No, their job will be made quite apparent once you've been properly dealt with. Instead, I have a few friendly faces for you to meet."

As he finished speaking, digitized flashes of red light began to appear around him, figures materializing within them. As the lights disappeared, he looked to examine them with renewed horror.

It was _them_.

The SIVA-fied Guardians said not a word, instead remaining completely silent and stationary. The Messenger wanted to savor this moment, to relish in Matt's most colossal failure and feeling of hopelessness.

To his right, he recognized Aria's armor, covered in those cubic-buds that were so signature of SIVA. Red tendrils and cable covered every inch of her form under the large pieces of metal that had otherwise been corrupted by it. Little worm-like tentacles waved around her head, stretching into the air like demented plant-life in bloom.

Looking around me, he saw more of the same. Behind him, Eager and Dawn. To his left, Scorch. And in front of him-

"Ash," he whimpered.

She did not respond, silent just as all the others. Her helmet had cracked apart, and through a split in the visor he could see one of her eyes staring out at him from within. It was wide and a sickening red, just like the Messenger's. More tendrils stretched around it, spanning across her features. He could only imagine the horrific sight that awaited within, if it were openly exposed.

"Where are their Ghosts?" Seraph asked fearfully to him from within. "I- I don't-"

He had no words of comfort for her, knowing that the worst had happened.

The Messenger had been right. There was no hope here. They were all gone. Not quite dead, just doomed to a life of corruption at the hands of a thinking plague, destined for nothing other than to be its puppets.

He wanted to sink to the ground, to give in and let whatever happened happen. He had no resolve, no strength to fight anymore.

All was lost.

—X—

 _She watched the will to fight leave his body, replaced with despair and a wish for to all to end._

 _She had no voice, and yet she screamed against the red. She screamed with every ounce of effort she could muster, what little of it she had left from what had been taken from her._

 _Reaching out to feel the new additions of her mind that she'd annexed and wrested from the red's control, she felt the presence over her slowly grow less suffocating._

 _She worked fast, once again setting to work in taking back control of what was hers, as well as going even farther and spreading herself throughout the connections that tied them all together, creating adjuncts that weren't even hers initially and manipulating them._

 _He couldn't win this fight, it wasn't possible. But she prayed to whatever entity was listening for him to hold out just a while longer and provide her with enough time to turn red to blue._

 _If he couldn't win, then she would._

—X—

He stood there, staring at the twisted husk of his wife that held his gaze with one of its own. That red eye stared back at him, sinister and flickering-

Flickering?

He caught his breath and watched it more carefully. As he looked on in morbid curiosity, he was startled to witness it alternate between being dim and illuminated until finally it did something he had no reaction for.

For the briefest of moments, it became blue again.

It only lasted for a second before reverting back to the crimson glare of the SIVA that inhabited her form, but he was sure of what he'd seen. There was a hint of her still in there- was it in all of them?

"Matt?" came Seraph's voice, looking to him for both comfort and confirmation of what they'd just observed. He drew in a deep breath, tightening his fist as he did so.

The Messenger watched him carefully, his gloating expression replaced with one of surprise. After all that had just transpired, he was still going to fight?

Matt thought back to what was at stake here. His family, the City, all of humanity should the Messenger unleash SIVA upon them like he'd done to the armies of the Darkness. Even if he was doomed to fail, giving up would get him nowhere. There was no other option.

In one quick motion, he drew the Hawkmoon and fired.


	16. The Perfected

_It should come as no surprise to any that the claim most denied and hidden by the Trinary Star has been proven valid._

 _The Last Hunter is real._

 _No longer can the Star simply call him a myth, or a mere story for others to use for fantasizing of better days; he is a truth, a living, breathing, and undeniably real individual._

 _For centuries, the Star has grown in both number and power. In terms of influence, they are second only to the flimsy example of what little government we have left in the City. And beyond its walls, only the neutral nature of the Keepers holds them at bay from spreading to the settlements._

 _The question you must ask yourself is how, if they have such a prominent history that dates back centuries and resources at their disposal that the rest of humanity only dreams of, could they have not known of the Last Hunter's existence?_

 _The answer is obvious, of course they knew he existed. Their constant outcries and attempts to deny that such a person existed are almost evidence in and of itself; the lady doth protest too much, methinks. But if they were aware of his being, then surely they would have alerted the masses to the fact? Why did they not?_

 _They're afraid._

 _Because, for the first time recorded in the centuries since the Star's conception, they're the ones who feel fear's cold bite rather than the ones feeding it into others' hearts. They were afraid of the ramifications of this truth, and what it would mean both for us and their order._

 _If the Hunter is real, were the Guardians real? They must have been. And if they were, then how did they disappear? Or, as theorized, did their abilities trickle down the generations until we were left with the Keepers, those who show an unusual versatility with the light?_

 _The Keepers may remain neutral in their alignment between the light and the dark, but the evidence seems to point to the idea that their predecessors were not. Imagine what remarkable feats that these 'Guardians' could have accomplished, what powers they may have wielded?_

 _It seems implausible that these indomitable warriors of the light could have just disappeared so efficiently for future generations to doubt their very existence. No traces of them, no historic records, nothing._

 _The only possible way that this could have happened is with the manipulation of an outside force, one that did not want the truth about the existence of Guardians to be revealed._

 _What other secrets is the Trinary Star hiding, and how long will it take for them to come to light?_

 _ **\- Anti-Propaganda put forth by the Seven Seraphs**_

* * *

The way Woods described the SIVA-fied Guardians, Clara pictured lumbering beasts made of cybernetic vein and tissue. It was a sickening image to have in her mind, and she was thankful that she was physically incapable of retching.

He glanced at her with a slight nod when he saw the look on her face, as though he was agreeing with how disgusting she'd made them out to appear in her mind. "If you think that's bad, then just try to imagine yourself in his position; not only did he know them personally, but they were the closest thing he had to a family."

She imagined Mathias standing there, staring into the horrifically corrupted face of the husk of his wife as the one who'd done it to her was standing nearby and gloating. Unconsciously, her hands balled up into fists at the tragedy and sheer horridness of the circumstance.

"I can't imagine anything worse," she whispered, curling her arms and legs in like a child seeking comfort.

With a disheartened sigh, the Hunter shook his head. "Neither could he. But the truth is that sometimes, our imagination is simply too weak to conjure up the same atrocities reality is capable of. This was one such time."

—X—

The bullet was deflected harmlessly by the Messenger who easily brought a hand up and summoned a small shard of void energy to take the impact. Truthfully, Matt hadn't expected the round to hit its target; he just was feeling a bit spiteful towards the Exo.

Meanwhile, the aforementioned Exo guffawed and seemed to take it in stride. "Not the first time you've tried that, yet you still hope one day it'll get me. Ah well, I'll just let you get into it. This is my favorite part."

Waving his arm, the Messenger triggered something in the SIVA-fied Guardians and they finally sprung forward to attack.

He sensed the attack from behind more than he really heard it, and he rolled accordingly to avoid the combined efforts of Eager and Dawn lunging at him in an attempt to subdue him. His roll left him open for a counter from Aria, however, and the corrupted Warlock managed to grab one of his legs. Swinging him back like a weight at the end of a string, she threw him into a pillar with enough force that part of it cracked and crumbled where his back struck it.

Sliding to the ground silently in response to the shocking pain he felt, he almost had to fight with his own body to move out of the way just before a large, SIVA-enhanced fist crushed his skull in. Barely managing to dodge Ash's advance, he was once again left without a proper counter to the next opponent who rushed him.

Scorch seemed to have much greater agility than the others, darting around and stopping in place unnaturally fast, almost as though her momentum completely disappeared at will. In such an instance, she effectively materialized like a ghost behind him, and kicked him back towards the center of a ring-like formation that they'd created between them.

Barely managing to retain his grasp on his weapon, he slid forward on his stomach and was once more rendered incapable of a proper response to the copious waves of fire that seemed to be engulfing his muscles wherever he was struck.

"Matt," came Seraph's voice again, "I know what you're thinking- but you won't survive unless you fight back. Maybe not even then. But there's far more at stake than any of our lives right now."

He groaned both in pain and at what he knew she was telling him; he wanted to save his family here, but it might be too late for them. The City still had a chance.

He'd have to let go of his inhibitions to fighting them, and stop holding back.

As Aria charged forward, he yelled and fired the Hawkmoon into her abdomen. He had no idea what would happen or how strong these things were, so he simply blasted until the chamber was emptied.

It appeared that the entity before him, as it was clearly no longer truly Aria, hadn't been expecting such a reaction based on his previous behavior and both of them were startled to see a sizable fist-sized hole having been blown through her stomach.

He almost dropped the gun in sheer horror at the realization of what he'd just had to do, but disturbingly the husk of Aria didn't seem to falter. Instead, new red tendrils and buds began to enter the wound and insert themselves into both flesh and armor, multiplying the threads until the gap had been filled. Then it, entered a combat-stance once more.

"They've been perfected," called the Messenger with that sickeningly conceited tone. "No longer are Guardians simply undying- they're _invulnerable_."

With a roar that screamed of torture and rage intertwined, the husk of Aria leapt at him.

—X—

 _How many times had this scene played itself out before her? She couldn't remember, everything was hazy and confusing with the claustrophobic presence of the red enveloping every orifice, sense, and thought of her._

 _No matter. She would make sure that this would be the last time._

 _It was still preoccupied in its game, the game that it played with the Hunter endlessly. A thousand times she'd watched him fail, and she'd be damned if she was going to watch a thousand more._

 _She did not remember, but still she knew- why? Perhaps as a result of the very nature of its symbiosis with her, she was part of it just as much as it was a part of her now._

 _What would come next depended on how quickly she worked her way through the connections; she'd never attempted this before, but she doubted she'd get a second shot if it detected her. Painstakingly, she felt herself grow through its extremities, the minions who had become mere phalanges of the red._

 _Finally, she made progress. She felt her own mind inhabit the body of another, just as the red did. Rather than staying, she continued along the path that would lead her to her target._

—X—

The Messenger was right; the 'perfected' Guardian's didn't go down as easily as he both hoped and feared. He didn't want to- end- the only family he had, he still wanted to hold out hope that they could be saved. Ash's blue eye stood at the forefront of his evidence for that theory … but if they were truly gone then he would rather be able to dispatch them than having let them endure this awful existence.

Unfortunately, they were strong, fast, and damn near invincible. He could damage them, but they just regenerated anything he destroyed.

Driving his blade through Scorch's shoulder, he felt a shameful satisfaction when he watched it separate and fall to the floor, followed by a sinking feeling as the SIVA consuming her immediately sprung into action and conjured up a wicked-looking prosthetic composed of metal and strands of red. There was no longer a hand, but a sharp blade much like the legs that the SIVA-infected Dregs had, and the defiled Hunter wasted no time in trying to impale him with it.

Twisting his body, he narrowly managed to avoid a fatal mark and instead cried out as the knife-like arm punctured his own, spearing through the underside and out the top of his left forearm like a harpoon. Wrenching it away, blood sprayed from the wound and he looked at it to see that his armor had done practically nothing in the way of protection. Red drops splattered against the ground wherever he walked, and his arm shook from a combination of adrenaline and nerve damage.

There was no respite from the fight however, no opportunity to recover before the husks were on the offensive again. Dawn looped a tendril around his midsection and raised him up into the air only to slam him back down into the ground with renewed force. They paused, almost daring him to continue to resist their power.

Weakly, he tried to raise his right hand with the Hawkmoon still in his grasp. Before he could even think about where to aim it, a claw-like foot of Eager's kicked it away and stomped hard on his appendage. He cried out in agony as the bones were pulverized, crunched to mush by the absurd strength of the perfected.

"Enough!"

The voice of the Messenger was not harsh, but rather more like someone simply telling a dog to drop a toy. "I'd rather be able to enjoy what comes next rather than trying to explain it to a bag of flesh like I've had to in past iterations."

His thoughts clouded, Matt tried to think past the pain and decipher what meaning he could from the Messenger's dialogue; iterations? And he spoke as though this were a story that he knew the ending to, like he'd read it many times before …

Stepping next to the Hunter, the Messenger looked down at the broken Guardian and leaned in close. "You're lucky that I'd rather you be in better condition than they usually leave you; I prefer you to be coherent as you watch everything come to an end."

Reaching down, the grabbed the tattered back of his cloak and brutally pulled the Hunter upwards until he was resting on his knees, the closest he could come to standing as he was capable.

The Exo gave a synthetic sigh of satisfaction at the sight before him, soaking it all in. Kneeling down to Matt's level, he rested a hand on the Hunter's shoulder in a show of mock sympathy. "I know how it feels, you know. To have everything taken from you in a single instant, to be at the precipice of ultimate victory and have it stolen away."

Clapping his hand on Matt's back, the Messenger stood up once more. "It was you who did that to me. First, you turned the Warrior- you turned _Sara_ into that poor excuse for a replacement-"

"I didn't do that," he grunted in spite of his predicament, "Sara chose that herself when she destroyed the crystal you gave her-"

He was immediately backhanded by the Messenger and fell backwards to the floor again. Above him, both Rook's and Reynard's eyes glowered at him. "I thought I made it clear that you're not worthy to speak her name."

Leaning down, he forcefully grabbed Matt and brought him up to his knees once more. "First, you turned her against me. Then, you stood in the way of the culmination of centuries of planning, managing against all odds to both save the Traveler and kill me. I'd have thought that at least I killed you too, but you _came back_ while I was left in the rubble to rot until the Darkness saw more potential with SIVA."

He circled the Hunter like a shark, gloating while the perfected Guardians stood still and unmoving, simply witnessing the spectacle as though they'd done so a hundred times.

"Every time it throws a threat your way, you're not far behind with the others to defeat it. It's taken time, but the ultimate realization has finally come that _you_ are the largest impediment in its way. All of you. So the goal has been rather simple this time around." He stopped in front of Matt and stooped down to place his frankenstein-like face in front of his.

"It wants to make you suffer. To watch you fail. To die trying to stop it, over and over again just as you have done so to us."

The perfected Guardians began to glow, and suddenly disappeared into the same red flashes that had made them materialize to begin with. The Messenger didn't sound like a maniac, he didn't sound like he was some unhinged lunatic; instead, he spoke with confidence that only came when one was completely sure of victory. The Exo wasn't daring him to succeed, or challenging him to rise up again; he was crowing about the fact that he knew the Hunter could do nothing but look on helplessly.

A red flash began to envelop the two of them, and the Messenger laughed as the sanctum disappeared around them to be replaced with clouds and dark skies.

"Allow me to show you your destiny."

* * *

 _ **A/N: for the love of god people, throw me a bone here**_

 ** _or at least a bit of feedback every once in a while, sheesh_**

 _ **Anyway, I don't think any of you are prepared for what's gonna come next. Remember what I said on my profile page, about breaking each and every one of your hearts with this book?**_

 _ **There are three separate points in the story where I'm going to do this, and the next few chapters are going to make up the first one.**_

 ** _Get your tissues ready, there's gonna be some waterworks._**

 ** _Until the next time,_**

 ** _\- Matteoarts_**


	17. Chronosynthesis

_I read her thoughts, her memories. I don't consider it an intrusion, regarding the very nature of our relationship after all._

 _That trek back to the City, all the while that Ghost- Whip, his name was- constantly put forth suggestions for her new identity._

 _Finally, he suggests Phoenix. She laughs it off, regarding it as a ridiculous name, though it does lead her to find the one she would use henceforth._

 _Ash._

 _I disagree with her assertion of its ludicrousness. A phoenix is a beautiful creature, a spectacle for others to find themselves amazed by. When it dies, it turns to ash and waits to be reborn out of the dust where it will then live its life out once more._

 _It seems that, much like the bird, everything has become a cycle. What does it mean? Does it mean anything at all?_

 _The Hunter fell as a man, only to rise as a Guardian._

 _The Messenger wasted away in abandonment, and found himself alive in servitude._

 _And even now, after countless repetitions and iterations of the light's extinction, salvation draws near at last._

 _It would appear that every thought, every process, every conceivable reality is in truth nothing more than a cycle, an unending sequence where the results are only as unique as the individuals they encompass._

 _Even me._

 _A phoenix may rise from its ashes, but the ash holds no beauty. It is nothing but that which unjustly ends the phoenix's reign, and brings it back into the world. It is just one unfortunate, but necessary step in its life cycle. Without it, the phoenix could not be immortal as it is._

 _I would gladly take the title that she rejected, recognizing its significance. The identity she chose is an apt one; she is nothing more than the foundation for which the phoenix will rise above once more._

 _I am the paragon, the phoenix. She is the ash._

 _And the cycle is about to begin anew._

* * *

As the red light died down and faded away, Matt was finally able to properly apply some context to their new surroundings.

Now, he knelt upon a platform of Vex stone, cubic and geometrical as though it had been designed to physically mirror an equation. The aforementioned platform floated high in the clouds, granting one a spectacular view of the horizon far off in the distance.

"Venus has always been one of the greatest mysteries to humanity," the Messenger muttered quietly. "Scientists and researchers struggled for centuries to comprehend the nature of the Vex ruins here, some of them predating mankind's origin. Yet, how had they never noticed such monuments and structures if they had truly been here all along? It was almost as if they-"

The Exo placed a fist in front of his face and opened it to mimic an explosion, "- _popped_ into existence."

He groaned in response, still clutching his mangled hand with his other arm, shaking from the wound it had sustained earlier. It was tough to think through the pain, but he made the effort anyway; what was the Messenger getting at? He didn't think it'd be a long wait to get an answer.

"The fact of the matter is that, as startling as it is to think about, that's _exactly_ what they did. In a sense, anyway." He gestured around at their location, indicating the many Vex structures protruding into the atmosphere. "Look around you; we stand at the top of the Citadel, only one of many such locations around Venus. Do you know how long it takes to convert a planet into machinery?"

Matt tried to recall any information about the Vex's method of conquest. "They're … they're supposed to be able to transform a planet in days-"

"That's what it seems like, right?" agreed the Messenger animatedly. It was odd to hear the servant of Darkness speak in such an excited manner. "But the truth is that it's impossible to do so much in such little time. Fortunately, time is an infinite resource- if you're a Vex, that is."

The Messenger waved a hand around, and clouds of black and red began to appear. Materializing from god-knows-where, hordes of normal and SIVA-fied Vex stood at the ready. The Perfected Guardians stood nearby as well, watching the Messenger perform his final boast.

Grabbing the back of the Hunter's cowl, the Messenger dragged him forward as the minions looked on. "The problem with the Vex is that they're not really greedy, and they're not exactly evil either. At the end of the day, they're just trying to survive the end of the universe at all costs. The issue with that is that they haven't quite figured it out yet, and so they do what they always do- head back to the beginning and try again. It's the same way they're able to convert these planets; spend a few million, maybe a few billion years performing the process, and then just transport it all back through time to a few days after they started. Ingenious, really."

Finally reaching wherever he wanted to be, the Exo threw him down to the ground and stepped away as Matt tried to raise himself off the ground without working arms. Looking up, he saw a sight that he knew all too well.

"Back to the matter at hand, however; like I said, they don't really think beyond anything other than that; they're not ambitious, they're just survivors. They don't think about all the possibilities they have at at their fingertips with such power. Me, on the other hand …" He gave a loud cackle. "Well, I'm a bit more _creative_ than they are."

In front of them were several time-portals, machinations of the Vex's that truly showcased just how formidable an enemy they could truly become if they desired. However, these portals weren't the standard circular gates that he was accustomed to seeing; instead, it seemed as though their design had been drastically altered, no longer retaining the top section of their ring and instead stretching two intricate prongs into the air where they waited patiently for … something.

And then there was obvious enhancement of SIVA that had been applied to them.

"What is … what is it doing?" he grunted, the fear of such a combination very prevalent in his mind.

"There's not much else it _can_ do, those portals are practically the pinnacle of technological marvels; but there were a few minor tweaks that I've been able to add," the Exo explained. "See, now the portals aren't just connected to the Vex, but to every single individual who's been … _perfected_. Including myself and the Guardians you call your family."

At the mention of them, Matt glanced at them again as they stood idly by, waiting for the Messenger's next command. Were they aware of what they were doing? Were they already dead? Or were they just trapped inside the confines of their own mind, kept barely alive without any control?

"It's easier to show you the next bit rather than trying to explain it," the Messenger said, and gestured for him to watch them in action.

Cohesively, each set of prongs on the portals began to glow and charge up with temporal energy. Arcs of lightning and cloudy vapor began to materialize in the air above them, swirling together slowly but quickly gaining speed until a spherical orb of light began to form. The power from each gate was taken and channeled into the massive singularity, spinning insanely fast and now crackling with all of the energy it had acquired until it pulsed with one final burst and stabilized in the air.

Matt closed his eyes to shield them from the pulse, opening them cautiously to see what exactly had happened. Now, the large orb hung above them and the gates in the air, receiving a constant feed of energy from the portals and the SIVA-enhanced prongs attached to them. The many surrounding Vex stared at it, waiting for the Messenger to carry out the next part of his plan.

"Go ahead," he called to the Hunter, "gaze into it and see the fate that awaits you!"

With little other choice, he obeyed.

No longer was the orb made purely of light, or maybe it was; he couldn't describe exactly what he was seeing, just that its surface was more wispy than its core and it began to take shape into something that startled him considerably so.

"That's the City," breathed Seraph.

She was right; the orb acted almost like a window through space, allowing them to see the City from above, its inhabitants initially unaware of their new observers; but then civilians began to point out the anomaly in the sky above them, stopping to stare at the unknown entity.

"It was, as of a few minutes ago," the Messenger drawled, "or as it is at this moment, it's up to you how to interpret it really. So many timelines, so many realities … when you're a Vex, or at least someone with their technology in your hands, then all of time and space happen at once, converging on a single point with which you can choose whenever and wherever. Everything that's ever happened or will happen is happening _now."_

He indicated the singularity again. "I like to do this a few minutes in the past; close enough for you to feel the weight of your loss, but also just enough to be too late for you to help."

As they continued to watch, something else began to take place over the city; the army of SIVA-fied Fallen, Vex, Hive, and Cabal descended upon the City through their connection to the singularity. They appeared in the streets, in the sky, and-

"The Tower!" Seraph cried, as Matt was unable to work up enough of a voice to do so.

The view shifted to the courtyard, once again the target of an attack; but this time, there was no firefight or resistance. It was a straightforward massacre as Guardians were caught unaware and slaughtered by the enhanced enemy. SIVA particles snaked throughout the area, converting any host it could find, living or dead. These new perfected Guardians rose up, and helped to destroy the ones that had not yet fallen.

He cried out as the perspective shifted yet again, showing the Hall of Guardians as it was raided by the perfected. There was no warning, and there was no mercy.

Ikora, Cayde, Zavala, Shaxx … all dead.

He turned away, unwilling to watch the next phase as they were converted into mindless tools of SIVA. He was unable to block out the sound however, their gargled chokes becoming ever more guttural as the red plague took hold.

"Oh, you thought that was bad?" remarked the Messenger at Matt's torment, "Just look at this."

Against his better judgement, he looked back at the orb to see the rest of the City again, another aerial view. But unlike before … it was silent. There were still screams that rang out every so often, quickly cut off- but for the most part, not a sound escaped it.

On the ground stood hundreds, thousands of converted humans alongside the armies that had brought it in the first place. Nodes of SIVA erupted in the ground, growing roots and stretching them throughout the rest of the City to spread as efficiently as possible.

It was over. In just a few short minutes, the Darkness had won.

"Technically, that all happened a few minutes ago," said the Messenger with a twisted smile. "It was too late before you even knew it was too late."

He'd failed. There was no more humanity to save; only SIVA remained.

He was all that was left.

—X—

 _She watched through the eyes of the Vex as everything came to an end. He was broken, still unaware of the final card the Messenger had to play._

 _Exercising control over the parts of her that had spread throughout SIVA's connection, she directed all of her pieces into the gates that generated the singularity. She'd have to work quickly, before the cycle continued and she was sent back to the beginning to relive this hell._

 _It was almost in her grasp now; just a little bit farther and she'd touch the light-_

 _Her mental fingertips scraping it, she felt herself get absorbed into its energy and grow. She'd done it! No longer did she feel confined by the pressure of SIVA all around her, in fact she'd never felt so free before-_

 _Wait. She wasn't alone._

 _Two balls of light hovered in front of her in the void. One red …_

… _and one blue._

 _She recognized it as the same orb that she'd seen in her dreams, up on that mountain with the one who had called himself the Last Hunter. The same orb that had helped her find a way to defeat the SIVA that encased her mind. And the same orb that had revealed it held untold plans for her._

 _As she watched, the blue began to tear apart the red, ripping it to shreds and letting the ribbons fade into nothingness until only the blue was left, now with total control of the singularity instead._

 _Ash found that she was unable to do anything that she'd thought she would, that the orb had shown her she'd be able to. She was simply here, helpless as the light moved towards her and into her chest._

 _As it made contact, her thoughts blossomed into understanding._

 _Images flashed in her eyes as her mind touched infinity. Memories that weren't hers, and yet were. Memories that_ _ **were**_ _hers but were now being taken back. Untold centuries spent searching for purpose finally brought to an end as her efforts came to fruition._

 _All of time and space in the palm of her hand, resurrecting her consciousness from beyond the depths of realms unknown. No longer was she a memory, but an entity_.

…

 _Goodbye, Ash._

 _I have no use for you anymore; you played your part perfectly._

 _Now, it's time to play mine._

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_

 _ **; )**_


	18. Ad Infinitum

" _What do you mean by that?"_

" _What?"_

" _That 'atrocities' thing."_

" _Oh. Well, it's pretty simple to explain- when things are bad, people often think that things can't ever get any worse. But that's only because they lack imagination."_

" _How does a lack of imagination factor into this?"_

" _People like to apply situations to their own rules and understanding, try to make sense of it. They say that things can't get worse because, just maybe, they'll start to believe it if they say it to themselves enough times. But the sad truth is that reality is a very creative thing."_

"… _Isn't that what most people say is the least imaginative thing? Keeping it realistic?"_

" _That's because other people are stupid. If they used their brains, they'd realized that nothing would exist if it weren't for reality- and we've got all sorts of things that people never would have dreamed possible. The Traveler, the Darkness, all those races of aliens who sought to kill us so long ago … all of them existed in reality, did they not?"_

" _Yeah, I guess they did."_

" _Now you're getting it. Keeping it 'realistic' doesn't mean to limit your expectations; it means to broaden them to a point where you can prepare for the worst nightmare that reality's imagination has to throw at you."_

* * *

His eyes told him plainly what had happened, but his mind refused to truly process it. He couldn't accept the Messenger's truth that everyone was dead, the moment he did was the moment hope was finally extinguished-

"Oh, I never get tired of seeing that face," sighed the Messenger contentedly. "Defeat isn't something you're familiar with- it's always great to see the magnitude of your failure catch up with you."

He heard the Exo talk like a dull echo, one that he wasn't paying much attention to. He was reeling, completely overwhelmed and unsure of what to do next. There was no goal to progress to, no people to save, no … _purpose_.

With a start, he realized that perhaps the Messenger had been right- maybe he had turned his purpose in life into protecting others, into taking on the role of a savior. Why? Did he just feel guilt over _her,_ the one he'd failed to save in his past life? Or, as the Messenger suggested, was it more selfish in nature, born of a desire to achieve importance when it wasn't necessary?

Either way, he had no reason to live anymore. He'd failed to save his family in his previous life; Sara, Lucas, the twins, all lost with the sands of time and the Traveler's influence. And now, he'd watched as the only family he'd known in _this_ life had been turned into perverted machinations of SIVA and the Messenger.

"Finish it then," he whispered wearily, resting on his knees as the Messenger stood next to him, turning to stare at him as he spoke in the voice of a broken man. The servant of Darkness chuckled mockingly.

"I thought you never give up? That you always have something to fight for, that hope is always just on the edge of the horizon-"

"I found hope in people," he muttered, "in the futures they strove to create for themselves. I took it upon myself to protect those dreams- to be a Guardian to them."

He waved his crushed hand towards the singularity. "But there are no more people. There's nothing to fight for, nothing worth giving my life to protect. You've seen to that- all that's left is to end what you began with me."

The Messenger's red eyes, one of his old blue ones and one of Rook's previous pink ones, watched him carefully, gleefully. He seemed content to simply enjoy his victory and savor it rather than mercifully ending it. "You'd like to think it's that easy, wouldn't you? That eternal peace is just a brief flash of pain away? Not so, Mathias."

Hearing his name come from the Messenger's mouth was like swallowing poison. Still, his mind was conditioned to find the root of a problem and this new development seemed worthy of its attention.

"Why?"

"I told you," he crowed, "the Darkness and I want to watch you fail over and over again, much like you've done to us at every turn. And with both SIVA and the Vex at my disposal, we can do exactly that."

As the Messenger spoke, Matt's mind continued to work out everything the Exo had said throughout the encounter …

 _Not the first time you've tried that, yet you still hope one day it'll get me. Ah well, I'll just let you get into it. This is my favorite part …_

 _I'd rather be able to enjoy what comes next rather than trying to explain it to a bag of flesh like I've had to in past iterations …_

 _You're lucky that I'd rather you be in better condition than they usually leave you; I prefer you to be coherent as you watch everything come to an end …_

 _Allow me to show you your destiny._

He looked at the Messenger in horrified realization as a knot formed in his chest. "What did you _do?"_

"Finally figured it out, huh?" he cackled, his maniacal grin once again present on his warped metallic features. "You've been losing for a _long_ time."

He began to circle Matt like a shark as the truth was revealed. "You've never had any chance for victory. From the moment you arrived, your fate is sealed. You're forced to watch as everything is stolen from you; your family, your leaders, your people, and your purpose. And then, once you beg for death at my hand … we begin anew, the cycle repeating as though it had never happened at all."

He stopped in front of the Hunter, directing his attention to the singularity. "Vex technology has never been so precise- sure, they've always had control over timelines, but not with such a web of intricacies! I've made the timelines comprehendible to those not of their nature, connected it to each and every servant perfected by SIVA! My army is eternal, stretching their influence into both the past and future!"

He placed one hand on Matt's shoulder, displaying an obviously mendacious act of camaraderie. "It's all worth it, just to watch you suffer."

Matt looked at him, hate seeping into his voice. "Go to hell."

The Messenger laughed and rose back up onto his feet. "I thought we just established that you're already here! Think about it- a perpetual loop of defeat as you watch everyone you've ever known get slaughtered for all eternity? Give me some credit, I can come up with one hell of a … well, hell."

In that moment, Matt didn't see the Messenger. He didn't see some vaguely mysterious Exo with a dark past and pretentious title- he saw Reynard. The mannerisms of the person he'd been before were still there, a sense of jovial nonchalance in the face of such a serious situation that Matt had seen in those logs Reynard made with Sara and Amelia.

What did it mean? Did it mean that the Messenger was still capable of redemption, or was it just a title for Reynard's conscious decision to obey the whims of the Darkness?

"How many cycles?"

The Messenger shrugged. "I've lost count. You and I have gone through this so many times- ironically, for as much control as I now have over time, I have an awfully difficult task in making sense of it. As near as I can tell, who knows? Maybe we've done this for years, maybe decades, even centuries. Does it matter? When time is infinite, then this has happened, is happening, and will happen for all eternity. Why worry about it?"

"Has it brought you solace?"

The Exo sighed. "If you're trying to find redemption in me, I'm afraid that we've had this many times before. As harsh as it is for you to hear this, I take far too much enjoyment in tormenting you."

"I didn't hear a 'yes'."

The Messenger- no, Reynard's eyes narrowed, and glowered at him. "What peace will I ever have? Even since I was human, I've never known rest. I died as a man killed by the light, and was brought back as an Exo. I died as an Exo abandoned and shunned by humanity, and was brought back by the Darkness to be a servant. I died by your hand, killed as a servant who failed to carry out centuries of the Darkness' planning. And yet, here I am once more to complete another's schemes."

For the first time since he'd met the Exo, he witnessed a brief moment- or at least a shred- of humanity from him. Sighing, Reynard sat down and stared at the singularity.

"It seems that I'm always brought back from oblivion to fulfill the will of another. For the entirety of my existence, I've lived as a servant. There's nothing to redeem within me because nothing I do is ever of my own mind. Even my body is merged with the parts of another, no longer truly belonging to me. The closest thing I've ever come to calling something 'mine' is this cycle of torture I've created for you, and-"

Silence descended upon them as Reynard stopped himself, seemingly unwilling to continue. Matt knew what he'd been about to say.

"And … Sara."

The Exo's fists clenched tight, and Matt expected another beating for speaking her name- but instead, Reynard just nodded. "And Sara."

"You loved her."

"Yes."

"Did you ever tell her?"

"How could I?" he rebuked the Hunter, scorn prevalent in his tone. "I cared for her, watched over her, did everything I could to keep her happy- but her heart always belonged to you. You were the entire reason she even became an Exo, all so that she could come back from the dead and live out the rest of the life she'd lost with you. Who was I to stand in the way of that?"

He could hear the pain in the Warlock's voice, something he'd never have heard the Messenger display- but this was no longer a duel between a Guardian and the Messenger. This was a talk between Mathias and Reynard.

"Then I died …" Matt said aloud, working through the pieces of the puzzle.

"I'd never seen anyone so distraught. She had a complete breakdown, destroyed lab equipment, and shut herself away for days. Amelia and I did our best- but she was never the same after that." He forced an artificial snort. "Ironically, the fact that you were out of the picture was worse than if you were alive. Any chance I had to reveal my feelings for her died with you."

"Out of respect?"

"Out of respect."

That put the situation in a significantly different perspective. "I …"

"There's no need to say anything, you've likely already said it."

"We've had this conversation before?"

"At least once or twice, a long time ago. We don't often get to this part, usually I'd have restarted the cycle by now."

"… So why haven't you?"

"I don't know."

His admission led Matt to believe that perhaps Reynard _did_ know- he just didn't want to come to terms with it. He looked at the singularity, the view of the City in ruins, hordes of SIVA running amok while they sat here, high in the clouds and staring at Venus' horizon.

If there was any hope for a future … this was it.

"If the cycles have lasted as long as you say they have, then I'm sure I've probably said just about everything I can before, right?"

"Just about."

"Then ask me about something I haven't said."

The Exo looked at him. "What?"

"I'm predictable- I can't remember what I've said in past cycles, but you can. I can only say something new if you prompt me to do so. So- what can I say that you don't know? Tell me."

Reynard realized what he was saying, and stared at the Hunter for a few moments as he mulled it over.

"… Why you and not me?"

"What do you mean? You talking about Sara?"

He shook his head. "No, everything. Yes, Sara is a part of that- I did everything I could imagine to make her happy, yet she'd never choose me over you. But that's not all; why were you resurrected by the light while I was left to the clutches of the Darkness? Why did you succeed in the battle for the Traveler while I failed? Why did fate deem it fit to bring you back a second time from death after we killed each other, but left me in the rubble for years until I could be cobbled back together?"

He looked down frustratedly. "It was incredible chance that the Darkness revived the three of us to do its bidding. But the possibility that _you,_ of all the dead to choose from, would be selected by the light to rise again? Astronomical. Every time the two of us are pitted against one another, you come out ahead. I don't know whether you're special or just have fate's blessing- but those are the facts. And I fail to understand why."

"You feel inferior?"

"Wouldn't you?"

Matt thought about that, how he'd feel if he was consistently outmatched in everything he ever strode towards in life. "Fair point. I … I don't know. Maybe the light chose me, maybe it was just dumb luck that my Ghost happened across me. But I don't have an answer for you."

The Warlock nodded, accepting that. "Perhaps neither of us ever will."

They sat there for another minute or so until Reynard came up with another question.

"Who am I?"

"Again, I don't know exactly what you mean."

"I told you already, I have nothing to call mine. Even my name, 'the Messenger'- it's just a title to describe one who relays the orders of another. I'm a servant of the Darkness, and a murderer. But … those are _what_ I am. Are they _who_ I am?"

"Before I answer that, why are you asking me this?"

Reynard blinked, staring at him as though the answer were obvious. "Anyone who cared about the person I was before is dead, and I'm not enough of a fool to believe the Darkness uses me because it's fond of me- I'm a tool I serve a function and nothing more. A means to an end. So I want to know who I am to _you;_ my greatest rival, and the only person alive who possibly understands me."

It was surreal to be having this conversation at all, but Matt was going to answer seriously for what it was worth. "When we first met one another, you were an enemy to be defeated. But you became the very face of evil in my mind, someone so ruthless that they'd commit unspeakable atrocities to accomplish their goals. You weren't just in my nightmares; you _were_ my nightmares."

He gestured at their surroundings with his good hand. "And a few minutes ago, you were the one who stole everything and everyone I ever loved from me, and forced me to watch as they were gutted like animals."

The Exo turned away, likely having been expecting that. But he wasn't done.

"Right now, though … you're just Reynard."

His gaze snapped back to the immobile Guardian. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Those words you used to describe yourself … you've murdered good people, and spent centuries in the servitude of the Darkness. But we are what we choose to be." He pointed at himself. "A Guardian is not who I am- I'm Mathias. What you are is the kind of person you choose to be- and I chose to be a protector, someone who would give their life to ensure that others wouldn't have to."

He jabbed a finger at Reynard. "Your past does not define you- what you choose to be _now_ does. Whether it was because you wanted to or because you followed the others, you _chose_ to pledge yourself to the Darkness. But if you aren't happy with what you are right now … then you can always make a choice to change that."

The red eyes staring back at him narrowed. "And what exactly are you suggesting?"

Matt sighed resignedly. "Reynard- I can't beat you. Not this time. You could simply restart the cycle, and I'd never know unless you told me again. You could continue this eternity of hell you've trapped me in if that was what you truly wanted. For once, you've come out on top- but I can tell that you don't feel like you have."

Reynard said nothing.

"You served the Darkness because Sara chose to. And now you serve it because it's all you know how to do. You say that you want a mind of your own, but you always allow others to choose your destiny instead of forging it yourself. Even now, you've let your hatred of me drive you to create this prison for me- and you know it."

Groaning, he reached up with his good hand and took off his helmet. Blood dripped from the various cuts and bruises he'd acquired from being battered around by the perfected Guardians. He wanted to look Reynard in the eyes with his own for this.

"If you want to change who you are, then choose to do so. There are only two ways this ends- either you let the cycle continue, or you break it."

"If I break the cycle, then you'll have won again," Reynard muttered stubbornly, though his argument didn't have nearly the confidence in it that he'd displayed earlier.

"No. If you let the cycle continue then neither of us wins. I will always be a prisoner to your torture, and you'll always be a prisoner to the Darkness and your own hatred. If you break the cycle, then that's _your_ choice. You will have acted in your own interests rather than those of someone else."

The Exo became silent, legitimately considering the Hunter's logic. If he was still unconvinced …

"Reynard … I have no power here." The Warlock turned to face him again and was surprised to see the sincerity in Matt's eyes. "I can't force you one way or another- I'm completely at your mercy. If there was any hope I had of doing this by myself, I'd take it in an instant- but I can't. The hard truth is that only you can fix this."

He looked over at the perfected Guardians, those who had been his family only days before. Reynard followed his gaze, and then looked back to see a tear run down his face.

"I'm begging you, _please._ Please don't let your hatred of me consume you. For their sake and your own … I need you to forgive me."

For a moment, it seemed like the Exo would flat out reject him. His mouth opened and his eyes seethed with the memory of all the wrong Matt had done to him.

Then he closed it again, and looked down at the ground.

"… I'm afraid that it is _I_ who must ask for _your_ forgiveness."

Reynard looked out at the brightly illuminated refraction of the sun's light across the top of the clouds. "You're right. I let my hatred consume me. Not just now- but for centuries, I let my mind become forfeit to those who would use me for their own machinations."

He clenched his fists. "No more."

He stood up, and looked down at Matt as he sat unmoving on the ground, completely in awe of what had just happened. Unexpectedly, the Exo grinned.

"I was a good man once. It's time for me to be that man again."

He extended a hand down to Matt, waiting for the latter to take it. Almost in a daze, the Hunter automatically accepted and let himself be helped to his feet. Reynard looked at the army of perfected around them.

"I still have control over them, but that won't last long now." He turned to Matt. "The Darkness has been using SIVA as a conduit for its own mind, giving it thought and purpose."

"I kind of suspected as much," the latter confessed, remembering his and Seraph's time in the Sanctum's server farm. "So what now?"

"I'll have to purge this timeline," the Warlock said, thinking aloud. "That will reset the cycle- but unless I go back far enough, then it won't matter. It won't save your family." He looked over the the perfected Guardians with concentration until an idea struck him.

"Unless … yes, that should work." He looked at the singularity, and seemed to become engrossed in thought. "The timeline is like a code now, just bits and segments of data for what exists and what doesn't. Take one out, and it affects the whole stream. No SIVA means no transformation. It also means no army of perfected waiting to strike from beyond the city walls, so that kills two birds with one stone."

He looked back at Matt with another expression that he'd never seen on the Exo's face before- regret.

"It also means no more me- SIVA's just about the only thing keeping me alive right now. Without it, there won't be anything left of me for the Fallen to put together."

The Hunter stared at him blankly. "You … you'll die?"

"Don't act like it's something new for me," Reynard said jokingly. "Besides, you and I both know that there are things far worse than death- like living a life for someone else."

He became quiet and thought about what to say before changing his expression to one of pride. "I'm not sure that I can redeem myself for all of the lives I've taken- but I'll die knowing that my last act- an act of my own choice- was to save everyone else. Maybe it will even come close to one of the many stunts you've pulled."

Matt was nonplussed by the show of selflessness that Reynard was about to commit. He said nothing, waiting for the latter to get everything he wanted to say out of the way.

"One more thing; when I do this, I'm not sure if anyone else will recall all this. Maybe not even you, though I'll try. On the off-chance that you _do_ remember what I did, do me a favor."

"What?" asked Matt, sincerely intent on fulfilling it.

"Remember me as Reynard, not as the Messenger. I know the City has 'Messenger's Fall', but …" He looked around at the gorgeous view they had atop the citadel. "I'd like to think that this is where the Messenger truly died, and Reynard was reborn."

Slowly, Reynard turned back to the singularity and began to focus on the red orb of energy. The view of the city disappeared to be replaced with a pure blinding light, slowly growing larger and larger in his field of vision. Brighter, brighter, and-

Just before it enveloped every corner of his sight, it started to dim. The orb shrank until it was back to its previous size, sitting there as though waiting for instructions.

He looked around confusedly to see Reynard still standing there with an expression quite similar to his own on his features.

"What? That should've-" He froze. "I'm locked out- something else has control."

"Something else?" Matt repeated, stunned by the new development. "Like what?"

 _ **Me.**_

The voice came from everywhere and nowhere, manifesting directly in their minds and all around them. They looked at the singularity to find that, instead of red, it was now a bright blue. It began to spin, energy arcing and crackling all around it.

 _ **I have waited across void and time and space for this moment, patient for the inevitable. But what will happen has already happened, and is happening … so here I am at last.**_

The familiarity of the voice could not be any clearer to Matt- this was the voice of that same orb that had helped him down in the abyss of Crota's throne world, presumably the same entity that had assisted Aria in killing Skolas and haunted Ash's dreams. He'd forgotten all about it, having last heard from it years ago.

And now it was in control of the entire timeline.

"Who are you?" he called loudly to be heard above the noise of all the lightning emanating from the singularity.

 _ **I am the Phoenix, and I am eternal. I burst into flame with spectacularity, reduced to no more than ash. Now, out of the ashes, I rise again. I am become immortal.**_

A particular strand of lighting struck the ground several meters in front of them, and surged violently as it branched off into a complex web of electrical streams. Slowly, it began to take shape- the main bolts formed a humanoid skeletal figure while the little ones became nerves, sinew, muscle and tissue. As they watched with both interested and horror, pale skin began to grow and cover the muscle, spreading over the form until finally the form was fully materialized.

It appeared to be a nude woman, one who raised her arms into the air and took a deep breath with a gasp as though she was feeling her lungs for the first time. Her breasts heaved along with her chest as it swelled to compensate for such a large inhalation as the one she'd taken. When she was satisfied, she released the air from her body and let her chest fall back into place.

Then she opened her eyes and stared at the two of them as they stared back at her dumbfounded. She looked at herself carefully before letting a smile emerge.

"Almost."

At that word, more energy surrounded her body. Garments appeared to form out of nothing until she stood there wearing potentially the strangest thing he'd seen all day, given the context of the situation; a navy blue turtleneck sweater and a pair of faded jeans. Her feet remained bare, and she clenched and unclenched her toes rapidly as though to experience the sensation of tendons and ligaments again.

Where she had originally been bald, short black hair now covered her scalp and hung just above her eyes.

Her _eyes_ …

"Who are you?" growled Reynard, not used to seeing something so unknown unless he was the source of it. He clearly didn't recognize her. She regarded him with distaste, but let her eyes wander over to Matt where she regained her smile.

"I think _he_ knows."

Indeed he did. It may have been years since he'd last seen her, but that face and those eyes were unmistakable. A cool electric blue, just like the ones in her past life … and the ones of who she'd become.

"… Sara?"

* * *

 _ **A/N: CHOO CHOO BITCHES, THE PLOT TWIST TRAIN HAS ARRIVED**_

 _ **Things to get out of the way; obviously Destiny 2 is her at last. And, just as I predicted, it's disappointing. To me, at least; maybe you guys will have more fun with it.**_

 _ **Other than that, I wanted to say that back in July we passed the two year anniversary of this series' existence, and I forgot to mention it. I'm amazed that I'm still here after all this time, and even more amazed that it took this long to get to this point in the saga.**_

 _ **So the orb has been revealed. Its (her) plot is upon us. And now, the only question is what will happen now that she's here?**_

 _ **Stay tuned to find out. Better have those tissues I told you to grab.**_

 _ **Until the next time,**_

 _ **\- Matteoarts**_


	19. Apotheosis

She answered with a radiant smile, the same one that dazzled him even now after so many years since he'd last seen it. "In the flesh- my, does it feel good to be able to say that again."

Looking over him, she seemingly noticed his injuries all at once. "Oh my- just a moment, I'm so sorry …"

Waving an arm at him, arcs of whatever quantum energy had generated her body bonded to his own, and he tensed up for a moment before realizing that the pain was gone. After the arcs evanesced, he looked down at his hand to see that it was no longer broken and mangled, and other injuries like his impaled forearm and various bruises were gone as well.

He stared at her unbelievingly as she seemed to brush the event off as a completely casual experience. Twirling ever so slightly with an air of excitement, Sara flaunted her form off. "I tried to go for something that you'd recognize, something that seemed normal- or at least as normal as can be, considering the circumstances."

She'd achieved the opposite effect, since the sweater and jeans looked ridiculously out of place in their present location, but he wasn't going to be the one to point it out to her.

Off to the side, Reynard finally seemed to have regained his voice and spoke in amazement, "S-Sara?"

She turned towards him with an expression of disgust, one that he didn't seem to notice. "I can't believe it's you- I mean, not that I would have recognized you since I never saw you as a human, but I mean- wow. I never thought-"

"You," she growled darkly, and began to march towards him with presumably sinister intentions in her footsteps.

He came to realize that she was not happy to see him, and he began to back away cautiously. "Sara, wait- I don't know what you think you're doing, but I can assure you-"

"Coward," she spat, narrowing her eyes as more lightning and energy began to spark and crackle around her body. "So many years … so many lives you've destroyed, so much pain you've wrought unto the world!"

He shrank back from her accusations, intent on putting distance between himself and her. Unfortunately, there wasn't a lot of room atop the Citadel, and he found himself backed against the sheer cliff of the structure's ledge.

"Amelia tried to save you," she continued menacingly, "Ash tried to save you- and only now do you finally see the error of your ways, when death is upon you." She raised a fist, blue light swirling in her palm as she prepared to hurl it at the Exo. "Well, it's far too late for redemption, _Messenger-"_

Matt stepped in front of the Warlock, shielding him from her.

In an instant, the energy in her hand dissipated. "Matt, what do you think you're doing?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"There's no need for this," he reasoned, his voice calm. "He's not a threat-"

"No _need?_ Not a _threat?"_ she scoffed. "Do you have any idea how long he's been doing this? How many times he's tortured you by ending humanity as we know it, and resetting the cycle?"

His mouth tightened, and he gave a small backwards glance at Reynard behind him. "No, I don't. But that hardly matters anym-"

"We're talking about thousands upon thousands of cycles here. You don't even want to know how long exactly he's been doing this- or how long he would have been doing it if he didn't stop time from progressing every reset! It's a good thing I've finally managed to break his sadistic sequence."

"How are you even here at all?" he asked her, genuinely nonplussed at the situation. "How is this possible?"

She paused in her tirade against Reynard, and closed her eyes. Holding her arms above her head, her veins began to glow bright blue as whatever power she now held coursed through them. Behind her, the singularity began to glow once more seemingly at her command. Turning around to look at it, she waved an arm at it and they watched as a bolt of blue light streaked into it and seemingly disappeared.

In response, the singularity emitted a pulsing shockwave which knocked them off their feet and onto their backs. Scrambling up to regain a defensive posture, Matt looked around in bewilderment. "What the hell was that?!"

"It's what made any of this possible," she muttered quietly, spinning back to face him directly again. "It's how _I_ made it possible."

He shook his head ever so slightly. "I … I don't understand."

"What's happening now _is_ , always _has_ _been_ , and always _will_ _be_ a constant across this timeline … because I have made it so." She tilted her head with another smile, just as innocent and jubilant as he remembered.

This was his best friend, the woman he'd loved since he was a kid … and she was right here, thousands of years after she'd died in his arms. He _should_ have been feeling ecstatic, should have been positively overwhelmed with joy.

So why wasn't he?

She could tell that he still didn't grasp what she was talking about, and her face took on a patient countenance. Flexing her right hand, she angled it towards him and bathed him in a beam of blinding light. He felt his body become stiff and rigid whilst also feeling like something was being torn away from his very essence-

" _AAHH!"_

Seraph's terrified shriek alarmed him greatly, and he looked to see his Ghost flying into Sara's hand, pulled from within him almost effortlessly by her.

The beam faded, and he fell back to the floor with control once more over his body. Immediately, he lifted his head to look at Sara and the Ghost. "Seraph!"

Sara held the polygonal AI gingerly. "Don't worry, I have no intention of hurting her. I just need to _show_ you …"

With one finger, she stroked the Ghost and everything faded to white.

…

 _Another dead end. At this rate, she was never going to find a Guardian. Or, at least not the kind that she was looking for._

 _Ceasing to scan the skeleton in front of her, the Ghost turned away and hovered over to another area. She wanted to make sure that she covered every possible area before giving up and heading back to the City. The last resurrection had been a decade ago, everyone believed that they'd run out of souls to bring back; it had just been too long since the collapse, and light's energy decayed over time._

 _But she was willing to check these outskirts in one final bid to find what she was looking for. Not many Ghosts ventured beyond the wall, mostly due to the Fallen pirates that liked to roam the location for salvage and scrap. If there was any place she'd find a soul that hadn't been revived yet, it was going to be here._

 _As time wore on, however, she was losing both hope and her enthusiasm. If her search continued to yield no results, she'd be forced to fly back to the City and select a Guardian from the ranks of the volunteers. That wasn't to say there was anything wrong with volunteers; she just didn't find them to be ideal Guardians, considering how powerful the ones that were resurrected from beyond the grave tended to be-_

 _She stopped, and looked out in the distance at an old highway system with a plethora of rotting, rusting cars atop it. She could have sworn she'd seen something out of the corner of her optics, something bright and-_

 _There! A small flash of … something. Some kind of blue light that appeared for only a second, and then vanished once more. Something about it was … intriguing, and she found herself drawn to investigate it._

 _Could this be a trap? Certainly, the Fallen were always coming up with new, crafty ways to trap their prey. But if her instincts were right, and she passed up the chance …_

 _Throwing caution to the wind, she acted on her intuition and ventured over to it._

 _The scene ahead of the Ghost was that of tragedy, of panic. An old highway from the Golden Age, still packed and blocked with the cars of those who had attempted to escape the Collapse, the end of civilization. As she flew closer, she could see that some still contained skeletons within them …_

 _Unfortunately, it looked like there wasn't much to see here. Quite a few skeletons, but none had nearly enough internal light to be revived. With an exasperated sigh, she turned to leave, planning to head back to the wall. With some luck she'd be able to evade the Fallen pirates, and manage not to be humiliated when she returned without an accompanying Guardian-_

 _Suddenly, she felt something. It was a warm feeling, as though she'd suddenly floated into a ray of sunshine. She aimed her eye at the ground, and her sensors overloaded. The body and bones had completely disappeared from years of erosion and decomposition, but a soul's presence was still there, burning bright with light._

 _This was the break she'd been hoping for. The Ghost prepared to perform a revival, full of excitement. She couldn't help but feel that the two of them were destined for greatness._

…

Matt blinked rapidly as his vision swam and his surroundings slowly came back into view. Behind him, Reynard appeared to be experiencing the same stunned feeling as Sara looked upon both of them from afar. Once he'd gotten his bearings, he looked at her to watch as she released Seraph, and the Ghost hastily flew back over to him for safety.

"You see, this worm here was right about one thing," she explained, shooting daggers at the Exo before returning her attention to the Hunter. "It was awfully coincidental how of all the people to be revived, the one who would come to destroy his plans was none other than you, his rival from thousands of years past."

He could hardly believe what he was hearing. "You … you mean … ?"

"What I just did a few minutes ago with the timeline?" she said, gesturing to the singularity behind her, "That was how all of this has come to be. I spread myself across time, inserting myself wherever I was needed to … guide things along. And now that I control the timeline, I _see_ everything."

She pointed a finger at him. "I was the one who lead Seraph to find your soul, and resurrect you as a Guardian. I crushed the memory crystal in my hand at the Tower, and gave Ash back to you because it wasn't time for my return yet. I was the one who saved you in the abyss of Crota's throne world, when you'd just about given up. I gave Ash her visions of the mountain peak, and made her remember me at the Clovis Bray facility! I assisted Aria in hunting Skolas, here at this very Citadel!"

Sara indicated the large space around them before placing her hands in her jacket pockets. "Everything that you've done, _everything_ that has ever happened since you rose from the dead has lead to this point … because of _me_."

His mind was reeling, he felt like he was going to be sick. Sara … was the reason he was a Guardian? Was the entire reason for his second chance at life at all?

"Matt?" asked Seraph worriedly as she looked up at him. "Just breathe … are you alright?

"So because this happened in the future," he began, ignoring his Ghost as he tried desperately to put the pieces together, "you guaranteed it by influencing the past? Isn't that a-"

"A paradox," she agreed, "but a self-sustaining one. A circle has no beginning or end, it simply is- but that doesn't make it any less logical."

He sank to one knee sheerly out of the shock and adrenaline coursing through his system. All of this information was so much to handle and process, and so quickly-

"Hey."

He looked up from his position on the ground as he felt a hand gently set itself on his shoulder. Sara was kneeling next to him, comfortingly reassuring him in his moment of weakness. Reynard watched them without any reaction, as he was completely unsure of how to proceed from this point.

His mind soaked up the likeness of her face; those bright blue eyes of hers, still shining like they'd done even while she'd slowly died in the hospital … that black hair of hers that she'd always insisted on keeping short just because she liked being different …

She beamed at him. "It's alright. Everything's going to be alright."

He just- he had to, after so long without her-

He wrapped his arms around her in a hug, one which she eagerly reciprocated. They stayed there for a few moments, no sound other than the humming of the singularity and the each other's hushed breath in the the other's ear. He buried his head into her shoulder, a few stray tears falling onto the fabric of her jacket though she didn't have the slightest care. He felt her run her fingers through his hair much like she'd done in their first life, something they'd joked about from time to time.

Finally, she separated from him and smiled. "I'm here now. It's time to set everything right, love."

 _Love …_

A rush of emotion suddenly surged through him- shame, at having forgotten his family so quickly. Scorch, Dawn, Eager, Aria, and …

He watched her stand up and walk back towards the singularity, leaving him and Reynard to their own devices. He looked at the Exo who stared back at him with a vacant expression upon his metallic features.

 _The Exo …_

Ash was not Sara, but she had come _from_ Sara. That could also go both ways; Ash was absolutely her own person … but was Sara a small part of that person?

"So I get that you made everything happen up until this point," he called out to her, "but how did this point even happen at all? How did you get control over the timeline in the first place?"

"Chronosynthesis," she called back, almost nonchalantly.

"What does that mean?"

She faced him, shrugging casually. "Basically, the future me- one of the iterations of myself I sent out into the timeline- instructed Ash on how to break the Messenger's cycle. It told her how to move her mind through the connection that SIVA creates with all those it infects, and find the Vex that were directly tied to the time-gates sustaining the singularity."

Sara gestured at the aforementioned orb, still hovering and pulsating in the air. "Once she interfaced directly with the singularity, she became one with the timeline- but that had some side-effects that I didn't warn her about. Namely, the fact that control over the timeline is a two way street, a doubled edged sword if you will; while the timeline does open itself to you, _you_ also become open to _it._ That interaction allowed me, a previous incarnation of Ash's mind, to return from beyond."

Shuffling her feet slightly, she looked down as her demeanor became slightly awkward and apologetic. "However, there was a bit of an issue trying to rectify two people existing as one mind, so … I, uh, took control for myself. It's not a big deal, don't worry. I'm fine."

Looking back up at him, she saw that he was staring at her silently and mouth slightly open. "Are you alright?"

 _It's not a big deal, don't worry. I'm fine._

She didn't even seem slightly concerned about what happened to Ash, or even what had happened to the rest of his family. He turned to look at their Perfected forms, still waiting for orders that would never come, now that Sara had control of time itself.

"What about the others?"

She nodded understandingly at his concern. "Those aren't anything but husks now. Ash's body is even less so, because her mind transferred to the singularity and became mine." She reached out and patted him on the back encouragingly. "Don't worry; like I said, I'm going to set everything right."

"Even Ash?"

" _Especially_ Ash."

He breathed a sigh of relief, his worries assuaged. "Sara, I- I don't know how to thank you for this."

She laughed. "Oh please, like you have to thank me. Being together with you again is more than enough."

Her language confused him for a moment. "Being together-?"

"If anything," she continued, blind to his uncertainty, "I should be thanking you for handling this so well. I thought it'd be more difficult to explain everything."

"What do you mean?"

She shrugged. "Well, you know. I know you formed some … _attachments_ , but I'm glad to see that you understand what truly matters. I was worried that you'd-"

He held up a hand to stop her. "Before we move on, I think you need to clarify what exactly it is that I understand, because I'm feeling a little lost right now."

She stared at him blankly. "That none of this is of any consequence, and I can put things to how they were always meant to be?"

His hand lowered as his heartbeat began to pick up pace. "I thought you said you were setting things right?"

"I _am_ setting things right-"

He cut her off. "I mean, I thought you were going to fix this? Bring everyone back, set everything to the way it was before Reynard created the loop?"

She blinked rapidly, clearly surprised at his interpretation of her meaning. "What? No, of course not! Don't you get it? I have complete and utter sovereignty over time! This is bigger than any of _them,_ I can make things right once and for all!"

Sara looked up at the singularity, and the energy that arced around it. "There are only two things that matter now that I have control; _you,_ and _me._ I'm going to give us the life that we never got to have … the one that was stolen from us."

His blood froze cold at her hidden meaning. "So, what are you doing?"

"To kill a weed, you have to dig out its roots; and all of humanity's problems, ours included, stem from a single event in human history that changed us forever."

Green eyes met blue ones, their gazes locking as she revealed her intent.

"I'm going to destroy the disease at its source; the Traveler."

* * *

 _ **A/N: feed me those reviews pls, i live off of your tears**_


	20. Green and Blue

"AAHH!"

With a shout, he bolted upright in shock and looked around to look at-

His living room.

Glancing down in complete astonishment, he saw that he was sitting on the small couch in his apartment. A news program was playing on the TV, so he must have fallen asleep out here watching it.

He held a hand to the side of his head, his heart still racing. What the hell kind of dream had that been? Most people dreamt of flying, or falling, or something relatively normal. No, he'd imagined some kind of dystopian world where- well, he wasn't quite sure. As was the case with most dreams, the details had begun to fade from his mind the moment he'd woken up.

Shaking off the last vestiges of sleepiness, he yawned and checked his watch. Two thirty? How convenient, that was right in time for-

A knock on the door alerted him to the arrival of his guest, and he rolled his eyes with a smirk at her punctuality. "Give me a sec, I'll be right there!"

Standing up from the couch, he meandered over to the front door and quickly unlatched the locks on it and swung it open. "You know, it's _okay_ to be a bit late every now and then-"

"Matt!"

Two voices had called out as one in excitement, and he looked down right before he was swarmed by two shorter bodies who rushed forward and wrapped their arms around him. Raising his arms defensively, he laughed in surprise. "Mia, Eli! What are you two doing here?"

He heard a chuckle from behind them, and looked to see his lovely lady standing there with a grin on her face as she observed the display of affection from the twins. "Caught these two stragglers outside and heading in. They said your mom dropped them off for a visit? Apparently she didn't think you'd mind."

Sara was right, he definitely didn't mind. It can't have been too long since he'd seen them last, but it felt as though it'd been forever. He kneeled down to hug the two teens properly. "Of course, someone's gotta keep these two trouble-makers off the streets after all!"

Mia pulled away giggling. "Oh c'mon, mom says you were just as bad as us when you were younger?"

He raised an eyebrow disbelievingly. "Really?"

She huffed. "Okay, well maybe not _as_ bad, but still-"

"That's what I thought," he cut her off with a chuckle. "I may have been rowdy, but you two take the cake when it comes to mischief-"

"Are you alright, Matt?" asked Eli suddenly. His younger brother was looking at him with mild concern. "Why are you crying?"

He blinked, not knowing what the young twin was talking about until he raised a hand to his face and pulled it away wet, tears sliding down his cheeks without him knowing.

"I … I don't know." He was just as confused as they were, but he pushed past it and spun it back on them with a laugh. "Maybe I'm just so horrified at the prospect of having to be around you two!"

The smiles returned to their faces, and he stood back up to look at Sara. "What do you say we head out and grab some food?"

She nodded with a grin. "Food sounds great."

He lowered himself down next to her on the bench, wrapping his left arm around her as he raised his burger to his mouth with his free hand-

He stopped and looked around wildly. "Wait, what?"

She turned her head to look at him. "What's up?"

He stared at her uncomprehendingly, trying to understand what just happened. "How did we get here? We were at my apartment just a moment ago, and-"

"We just went out to grab a bite to eat," she replied, an inquisitive expression present on her face. "Don't you remember?"

He racked his brains, recalling his suggestion to eat … slowly, pieces began to fall into place and fill his mind like a tap bringing forth water. "We bought the burgers … and then came to the park … to watch the twins?"

On cue, a frisbee flew through the air and Eli ran after it while cursing his sister's aim. She probably snarked back to him, but he still felt too bewildered by the whole situation to notice. "That was weird, I just … it felt like only seconds."

She cocked her head curiously. "Not quite Déjà Vu then, but something like it?"

"Yeah," he let out slowly, "something like that."

They sat there together, watching the two teenagers throw the frisbee back and forth in the open field of the park. Laughing, yelling happily … it seemed so surreal to him for some reason.

"Remember when we were that young?" Sara remarked, nestling her head into the crook of his arm.

He rolled his eyes at her question. "We were that young just a few years ago. We're only twenty one, it's not like high school was a lifetime ago."

She didn't say anything immediately, instead remaining silent for a few moments before replying, "A lifetime ago … right."

As much as he'd critiqued her verbiage, however, he realized that he felt the same way. Now that he thought about it, it _did_ feel as though their school years had been behind them for far longer than was truly the case. He reflected on the memories fondly, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips. "Man, we've got to get the three of us together again sometime, it's been too long."

"You mean Lucas?"

He nodded. "Can't remember the last time the three of us were all in the same room. I guess we'll have to wait until he get back from his trip to Russia to have a … reunion …"

Slowly, he trailed off at the startling conflict of information in his mind. "I … _I'm_ supposed to be with him on that trip. He'd been planning it for years, but he invited me along because I needed to get my mind off of …"

Sara made not a sound as he faced her directly, a look of obvious disturbance at the revelation he'd come to covering his face. "You died. You … _died-"_

"Just how realistic was that dream you told me about?" she asked. "I'm right here, so how could I have possibly died?"

He was getting mixed up, what she was saying was confusing him. "The … the Traveler, its light poisoned you-"

"What 'Traveler?'"

"You know, the …" Now, his memory of it evaded him and he struggled to explain it properly to her. "The white orb, the thing-"

"You mean the mars discovery?" she quipped. "The thing our leaders ran out of the solar system? We haven't seen it since our leaders scared it off. They decided it was too dangerous to investigate, and tried to nuke it? Don't know what it was, but I've got the feeling that we're all much better off without it. Remember-"

"Stop telling me to remember!" he grimaced, holding his head. "Something- something's not right here, I _know_ it-"

"As you keep telling me," she shushed him as she lowered him onto the couch gently. "I know. Just relax, and I'll get dinner started. Sound good?"

He was about to reply that it sounded fine, when he noticed his surroundings and leapt up from the couch anxiously. "And now we're back at my apartment? We were _just_ at the park-"

"-and your mom came by to pick up the twins," she supplied, looking at him worriedly. "Remem-"

He held up a finger, pointing at her accusingly. "Don't."

She held up her hands in a show of surrender, obviously frustrated for whatever reason over his behavior. "Well then, what do you want me to do?"

"Just- just give me a moment to think, alright?" He paced around the room, shaking his head and sifting through all the confusing images flashing through his mind. Every time he thought he had something to hold onto, a face, a recollection of an event, it danced out of his reach. His supply of unknown memories continued to dwindle, until he had nothing to hold onto but the world around him.

She walked over to him cautiously, seeing the he was on edge, and wrapped her arms comfortingly around him.

"Hey; it's alright. _Everything's going to be alright."_

"No, it's not!" he growled, separating himself from her. "I don't know what's going on, or why I'm feeling this way, but-"

She reached out and grabbed his hand, holding it fast. "Look, I can see that you're … troubled … to say the least. But whatever's going on, I'm going to be right here for you."

Sara smiled, though he felt anything but at ease from it. "Best friends don't abandon each other. And I'm not giving up on you."

 _Best friends don't abandon each other. And I'm not giving up on you._

Those words, that phrase … it was something they'd to each other before, something they used to reassure one another … but someone else had said it once too-

 _White face, smooth and metallic._

 _Blue eyes, electric and sparking full of life._

 _He reached his hand around her waist, pulling her into a hug. She didn't know how to react initially, but she gave in and reciprocated enthusiastically._

" _You came back," he whispered softly, full of relief that she was alright … that she'd chosen not to keep her past memories._

 _She embraced him tighter, whispering back, "I'm not going anywhere. Like you said, best friends don't abandon each other." Leaning back, she gave him a full view of her countenance, full of joy and hope._

" _And I'm not giving up on you."_

All at once, his memories came flooding back. The Traveler, the City, saving the Traveler's Spark, venturing into the Vault of Glass, killing Crota, slaying Oryx, forming the Legends, and …

"… _Ash."_

Sara jerked backwards as though she'd been slapped. "What?"

He glared at her. "Let's not pretend that both of us don't know what's really going on. What did you do?"

In an instant, Sara's face changed as she dropped the act. She became exasperated at his questioning, "I told you, I'm setting everything _right-"_

"How is any of this right?" he shouted angrily, gesturing to the world around them. "This shouldn't even be possible, let alone _right-"_

Raising her hand, she snapped her fingers.

All at once, reality shifted and warped back to what he recognized; the top of the Citadel. The singularity pulsated and glowed blue behind Sara while she crossed her arms and stared at him. He glanced down to see himself no longer dressed in clothing, but in his Hunter's armor.

Next to him, both Reynard and Seraph seemed to be disoriented. The Exo stood up and looked at Matt. "What … what just happened?"

"The same thing you've been doing for years!" Sara yelled at him, advancing upon the Warlock with fury. "I have power over time now, _not you!_ Don't pretend that you've suddenly become good, the only reason you agreed to end it all was because you were _bored! "_

"Stop, Sara-"

"NO!" she cried out in consternation. "You really think that his moment of moral righteousness justifies any of his actions? Infecting humanity with this plague, tormenting you over and over- look around you! How is this _right?_ How is this _better?"_

She waved her arms at the open air around them, seemingly at a complete loss for his behavior. "If it wasn't for the Traveler, billions of lives wouldn't have been lost! We would have never gone through the collapse, never would have been attacked by the Darkness and its armies-"

"That's not the Traveler's fault!" he yelled back. "Look at all the good it did; it jumpstarted our future, granted us gifts that we never would have thought possible, and even sacrificed itself to save us-"

"It _killed_ me!" she shrieked. "How can you not understand that? I had to become an Exo because of its so-called 'light', nothing more than a glorified toxin to me!"

"We're not the only ones who matter here!" he tried to explain, but she laughed mirthlessly.

"Of course we are! That's the point I've been making this whole time!" She walked forward, pulling her arms tight to her chest. "I have complete control over time, nothing else besides us matters because nothing besides _us_ will happen! I can put us in a loop, living out our lives together and growing old as we always dreamed- and when we die, I just reset the cycle and we do it again!"

She raised a hand to caress his cheek, though he gave no reaction. "People wish to be able to live with their true love forever; you and I can actually _do_ that. Would you really choose this future over the life that was taken from us?"

He pondered her question, looking at it from every angle. But all he could think about was how, assuming she had her way, his new life wouldn't exist. None of the people he'd met would ever become reality, and they'd be doomed to whatever void lies beyond actuality.

But even in Sara's perfect world, the only happy ones would be the two of them. Time would never progress because she'd reset it at the end of each cycle, and the only ones who'd know would be the two of them.

He remembered a fear that Ash had told him about years ago, a while after they'd started dating. She'd told him how she couldn't imagine life without him and Aria, but wondered if he felt the same way … or if he'd give up his life with them if it meant he could have his old one back.

Could he live like that? Knowing that no harm would come to humanity, but that life itself was meaningless?

Grabbing her hand, he pulled it away from his face. "I made my choice when I remembered the life you stole from me."

Her eyes widened in outrage. "How- how _dare_ you-"

"You say that the Traveler took away your life, your choice," he continued, his voice strangely calm. "But that's exactly what you're trying to do for me, for the rest of humanity; eliminate any sense of choice."

"And look at what I'm giving you!" she argued. "We're together again, your family's alive again, and there's _peace!_ What has this life given you?"

"A new purpose defending humanity as a Guardian," he answered proudly, "a new family that I found in my team … and a love that I'd lay down my life to protect."

Once more, Sara looked as though she'd been struck. "You … you mean Ash?"

"I love her," he confirmed, "and I made a promise to her when I married her that I was _hers,_ and hers alone."

He stepped back from her slowly. "I loved you, Sara. I will never forget the time that we had together, I can't. But … I love Ash, and my life is with her."

She shook her head in disbelief. "I _am_ Ash-"

"No," he replied coolly, "you're not. You're a part of her, just as much as she's a a part of you. But you're not her. You're not even Sara."

She blinked. "Now you've lost me."

"The Sara I fell in love with would never have done something like this. I'm not willing to sacrifice so many lives just for our happiness, but it seems that you are." He pointed at her. "You became the Warrior out of personal vengeance, a grudge against the Traveler. That grudge resulted in nothing but heartache and pain for centuries that you spent killing for the Darkness. But when you finally let go of your hate … Ash was born."

She fell silent, processing his words as he pleaded for her to see what he saw.

"When I lost you, I cursed the Traveler with every fiber of my being," he continued, "but when you were gone, and I didn't have to watch you die … it was easier to see how much good it had done for humanity."

He stepped forward, joining her once more. To her surprise, he grabbed her hand in his own. "I'm not the same Matt you knew; you keep thinking that things can go back to the way that they were, but they can't. It's easier to believe you're doing the right thing when your dream is so close … but if you look at the bigger picture, you'll see that I'm right."

She delved into the time of his new life, determined to find what exactly he was so hellbent on guarding-

In an instant, she was flooded with experiences. Many of them frightening, dangerous. There was violence interlaced throughout all of his time here, it seemed that this 'life' of his was nothing but an eternity of war and fighting-

But she never detected him feeling the same weariness she'd felt as the Warrior. Instead, it was the opposite; adventure, friendship, family … it was always there, driving him forward.

She watched as he sat at a restaurant with Ash and Aria, all of them laughing together at a mission they'd carried out, cracking jokes and enjoying each other's companionship. She saw them trapped in the Vault, staying alive through the motivation that each of them gave one another, even as they remained trapped in Atheon's conflux.

After possibly the worst battle they'd ever fought, after everything he'd gone through in the abyss and destroying Crota … he still considered it one of the best nights of his life because-

She swallowed hard, her heart getting caught in her throat.

" _I don't see you as a machine," he spoke, "and I don't see you as human. I see you as an Exo. You are unique, and that's part of what makes you who you are. I don't love you because you try so hard to be human, I love you for you. I love everything about you, every strength, every flaw, it's all what makes you … you._

" _I don't care about any of t-that other stuff. One problem at a time. All I c-care about … is you, Ash. I love you."_

And again, she saw them in the Clovis Bray facility as they learned of Ash's true nature and past-

" _As much as I miss her, as I will always miss her … Sara's dead. She's gone, and there's nothing either of us can do about it. But she died so that you could live on. Because you are your own person. Are you predisposed to liking me, and am I predisposed to liking you? Maybe. But that's just because of the way our personalities attract, how they match; it doesn't make our feelings any less real, and just because I did love Sara, I won't ever stop living her … it doesn't mean I love Ash any less. Do you understand?_

" _You can never compare yourself to Sara because you're not her; you are Ash. And believe me when I say; I love you for that."_

She sank to her knees, overwhelmed with how powerful his feelings towards Ash were. It hurt, there was no denying that; her heart was broken utterly and completely. But she understood at last what he'd meant, and why he rejected her vision.

He hadn't chosen his new life over her. She'd chosen her own happiness over his.

Matt kneeled down next to her, understanding that she'd finally realized what he'd been trying to relay to her. "Are you alright?"

"No," she answered honestly. She looked at him. "But I'm not the only one who matters here, am I?"

He smiled sadly, the regret in his eyes ever apparent; but his stance was firm, and she knew it. Still, she gave herself one more chance to turn his mind.

Raising her arms, reality changed once again. His head spun every which way, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

All around them was a cold, desolate landscape full of nothing but sand, dust, and dark jagged rocks that jutted up from the ground to tower over the dunes of the desert. The wind howled hauntingly, and his cloak flapped in the breeze.

She motioned to their surroundings. "I have seen time, and I know what you face if you continue on the path you've chosen. All this that you see around you?"

He nodded in confusion. "Yeah?"

"This is the Balance."

His eyes widened in shock. "That prophecy that Scorch is supposed to be a part of? This is-?"

"Yes."

He had no words; he'd always thought of the balance as finally getting rid of the Darkness once and for all, a happy ending for the light. But he had no idea what any of this was, or what it meant. Where were they? When were they? He had a feeling like Sara wasn't going to give him any answers, though that didn't stem the flow of questions.

He turned to her. "My path, the life I've chosen … it leads to this?"

She nodded.

Gazing out at the horizon once more, he only had one more question to ask.

"Is there a way to stop it?"

"If you go back, time will become an inevitability," she replied. "Every choice will lead to a single moment where light and dark clash for the final time. When the dust settles, who knows if humanity's fate will become that of what you see before you … or something else?"

He sighed. "So there's a chance?"

"An infinitesimally small one, but yes."

He shrugged, looking back at her resignedly. "Then you know what my answer is."

She smiled sadly, a few tears escaping her. "Of course I do; it wouldn't be you otherwise."

In an instant, they were back atop the Citadel with the others. Reynard and Seraph were once again looking dazed and confused as they were pulled back into the timeline from nonexistence, and Sara faced the singularity whilst raising her arms.

Another pulse spread out from it, and Matt braced himself to avoid being knocked to the ground again. "What was that?"

"I've scattered myself into the future as well," she answered, "to guide you when you need it most. Your pain and hardship will undeniably be a lot to bear …" She faced him with reassurance in her eyes. "But even when I'm gone, some part of me will be there to help you."

Walking over to him, she grabbed his hands and held them warmly in her own. "I have no life without you, Matt. There's nothing for me here; but I know that the same cannot be said for you. You've found friends, family, love … there's nothing I want more than to be a part of it, but I know now that it cannot be."

Now, tears were falling from both parties as they said their final goodbyes. She pressed on while her voice wavered, "I'm scared, I won't lie. But … I'm happy to know that even if my time is over, yours is just beginning."

Tilting their heads together, they pressed their foreheads against one another silently and embraced for what would be the final time. The last time they'd said farewell, it had been in a hospital bed where she'd slipped from this life and into the next.

No one else was ever given another chance like this; what each of them had been given with this encounter was a gift, one that transcended time and space. This time, instead of parting ways wishing they'd had more time, they did so grateful for how much of it they'd been given. The bond they shared stretched for an epoch across the timeline … and they understood that, as with everything, it was coming to an end.

Sara looked over Matt's shoulder towards Reynard, regarding the Exo with acceptance. "It's time to set everything right. How about it, Reynard? Are you ready to finally die?"

He nodded with a sigh. "We've lived far too many lifetimes for one person. I think I'm ready to stay dead this time."

She looked back to Matt. "Before I go and fix this all … can I relive one last memory with you? It's my favorite one."

He wiped the tears from his eyes, giving a small sniffle before smiling. "If it's the one I'm thinking of, that's my favorite too."

"You know me so well," she said with a wet laugh, and they both held each other closely as the singularity began to glow again and everything faded to white.

—X—

 _Skipping back happily from her endeavor, Sara held her hand out for him to see. "Ha! I told you!"_

 _Clutched tightly in her grip was a stick of cotton candy she'd gotten from a man at the front of the line, and he laughed at her showcase of victory. "But you paid that guy ten dollars for it! They're only selling them for three-"_

 _She took a big chunk of it and popped it into her mouth. "Yeah, and we would have had to wait forever before getting any if we'd stayed here at the back. I think the cost was worth it."_

 _He shook his head while grinning. "I think you need more patience."_

" _And I think you need to live a little," she chuckled, and held out the tuft of sweetness towards him. "Now, do you want any or not?"_

 _Giving in, he grabbed a handful to her amusement. Together, they walked off to enjoy the rest of the carnival's sights and sounds, sharing the treat the whole way._

* * *

 _ **A/N: Okay, even I'm getting a bit emotional over this. I know that might sound cheap, but it's the truth; I've had this scene in my mind since I first started writing this over two years ago, and I'm just happy to finally have reached it.**_

 _ **Alright, so first thing's first; new cover. I really like the look of this one, and it's the third one I've made in all the time I've been writing this series. I hope you guys like it.**_

' _ **The Last Hunter' (and by proxy this series) is still not over yet, not by a long shot. I told you guys this was going to be a long book.**_

 _ **Let me know your thoughts in the reviews, seriously; I want to know how each of you felt throughout this whole arc, if you think it was done well or poorly, etc.**_

 _ **Until the next time,**_

 _ **\- Matteoarts**_


	21. The Conspiracy

_I am eternal. I am immortal._

 _I am the Phoenix._

 _I thought that the composition of the universe was a sequence of cycles, forming the structure of everywhere and everything. The very nature of life itself is a cycle, surviving long enough to reproduce before dying, all so that the task can be passed on to one's offspring. An endless loop of birth and death, for seemingly no other purpose other than to exist._

 _Even I thought myself to be a cycle, living and dying in a stalemate interchange between the phoenix and the ash. The Messenger too, returning to the weeds only to be resurrected as a slave to someone else's will._

 _But … I was wrong._

 _Perhaps the universe is made up of cycles, as I've come to accept that it is. But no matter how limitless they may appear to be, how unending their reign is, they CAN be broken. My thread to life stretched across millennium, through time and space and void itself._

 _HE showed me that defiance was possible. I wanted to give in, to subject both of us to the universe's will and simply live out our lives in accordance with its provided example. But he refused, and displayed a ferocity and determination that I have come to associate with him, and only him._

 _I offered him peace and happiness … and he rejected it in favor of saving those he loves. In hindsight, I should not have expected anything less from him. After all, it was that very trait of selflessness that drew me to love him in the first place._

 _My biggest fault was in not realizing that I am not alone in my love for him, and that … as painful as it is … the cycle of the phoenix and the ash must end, but not in the way I expected._

 _For him, I grant him the life he's chosen. For him, I return the ones he calls his family to him._

 _And for him … I do the impossible._

 _I kill the phoenix for the last time, and never again will it rise from the flames. Instead, it will remain as the ash until even that disappears into the wind._

 _I do what I've never been able to do before ..._

 _I let him go._

* * *

His body ached, a dull pain throbbing throughout his limbs and chest. His skin felt dry and tight, as though it had been burnt and then stretched taut over the rest of his form. He could hear noises around him, silent except for some kind of shuffling about, and the crackle of distant flames.

He opened his eyes.

The sky above him was dark and empty of clouds. No stars were seen, however, as their light was obstructed by the illumination of the fires burning nearby. Turning to look at his surroundings, he saw that he was in Messenger's Fall; the rubble of the crumbled buildings around him were more than enough evidence of that.

His mind felt hazy, clouded with an array of frightening images. He pulled his helmet off and threw it away, hoping some fresh air would help the headache. Prevalent among the flashes was a horrific vision of red, consuming everything before finally the blue came and-

In an instant, he remembered.

His pain forgotten for the moment, Matt scrabbled to his feet and darted his eyes around to assess the situation. Holding his hand out, he watched as a familiar Ghost materialized within it, looking just as dazed as he felt.

"Seraph? You alright?"

She bobbed her body once. "Yes, I … I think so." Turning to look at the scene around them, her voice became quiet. "Is that it? Did we-?"

A cough emanated from somewhere nearby, and they both froze. After a moment, it repeated and Seraph flew off to find the source. Chasing after her, she stopped a few meters away where a group of bodies lay upon the ground, immobile.

 _The others._

Aria, Ash, Scorch, Dawn, Eager … they were all here, unharmed and no longer warped by SIVA whatsoever-

Startled, he noticed that there was a sixth body beside them, an Exo. Bending down to examine it, he saw the sheen of maroon and white plating lit up by the dancing embers a few yards away. Recognition dawned on him just as the Exo's magenta eyes turned on, and he helped lift him into a sitting position.

"Rook?"

Rook's eyes 'blinked' a few times as he tried to process what was happening, and he looked at the Hunter with a blank stare. "I … uh, what am I doing here?"

"Looks like you came as a bit of a bonus," Matt replied with the ghost of a smile. "Must've been Reynard's parting gift."

"What?"

"Never mind," he said, "just help me with the others."

The two of them moved to assist the Guardians as they began to awaken. Scorch's chest heaved as she coughed up phlegm and removed her helmet to spit on the ground. Her hair dangled in front of her eyes as she spun around in confusion to get some semblance of an idea as to why she was out here.

"I've woken up in some weird places, but this is … is …"

Her voice faltered as her eyes found Rook who waved back at her. To the Exo's complete bewilderment, she launched herself at him and wrapped him up in a hug as muffled squeals of joy escaped her. Rook looked at the other Hunter, who was watching the two of them with amusement. "Uh, is there something I missed?"

"Let's just say you've been gone a while," he answered vaguely, saving the rest of the story for Scorch to tell him later. He turned his attention back to where Eager, Dawn, and Aria were all groaning about.

"Damn, I haven't felt this sore in a _long_ time," Aria grimaced. "Is there any particular reason why we've all found ourselves out here?"

He tilted his head to one side curiously. "You don't remember?"

She shook her head. "No. I feel like I should, but … it's all a blur."

Maybe it was best that way, considering the awful fate they'd been subjected to. Or had they? If time had been altered so windy by Sara as to fix this whole mess, then maybe it-

Sara.

He recalled their last moment together, sharing one final embrace before she allowed oblivion to take her and set everything back to the way it was to pay for her mistakes. But what about … ?

Ash still had not stirred, and Whip flitted about worriedly. The Ghost backed up as Matt approached her, his heart in his throat. Carefully, he removed her helmet. Her eyes were dark, giving her white face the appearance of skull with empty sockets.

"Ash … ?" he whispered, praying that his worst fear hadn't come to fruition. She and Sara had been two sides of the same coin, each of them a part of the other. He didn't know if the act of Sara sacrificing herself would have any unforeseen consequences on Ash, or if maybe it had … it had …

The rest of them stood behind him, watching with bated breath as he held her limp form in his arms. Closing his eyes, he bent his forehead down to touch it against hers, willing her to come back to him.

 _I never abandoned you. Don't abandon me, please-_

With a start, her eyes lit up and directed themselves every which way in apparent perplexity. After a moment or two, his face lit up with a blue glow as she found him and focused her gaze on him.

He stayed there all the while, allowing her to get her bearings before finally her body started to shake slightly and her voice trembled as she spoke to him.

" _I_ _remember."_

Throwing her arms around him, she shocked him with how tightly she held onto him as though she was worried that he'd disappear if she didn't. After a pause, he returned the hug in kind and held her close to him.

"I … she …" she tried to say, her sentence structure broken as she tried to piece together a cohesive thought. "I couldn't d-do anything but watch, and- and he did it t-to you so m-many times-"

Pulling back a bit, she looked at him with absolute wonder in her expression. "She offered you _everything._ Your old life, your family- and still, you … ?"

A few tears escaped him due to his elation, and he shook his head with a smile. "No, she didn't. She couldn't have … because _you're_ my everything."

Her mouth opened slightly in complete shock before she leaned in and placed her lips against his with greater enthusiasm than he'd ever felt from her before. After a few seconds, she broke off the kiss and fixed him with a look of complete and utter bliss.

"Mathias Woods, I have never loved you more than I do right now, and I will never love you any less for as long as I live."

He laughed heartily. "That's a pretty high bar to set. I'm not sure I'll be able to top that."

"You already have," she chuckled back to him, "Now shut up and kiss me!"

And so, they locked lips once again to the confusion of their comrades whose memories failed to explain why exactly the two of them were acting so oddly. There'd be time to fill them in later, but for now they were more than content to simply enjoy the moment for what it was.

The Messenger had talked a lot about showing Matt his destiny. But here, holding Ash in his arms and caressing her softly, he knew that he'd already found it in her.

—X—

The Hunter finished his story with a tired sigh, and looked out the window to see that it was dark out; telling the tale had taken most of the day to complete. The carved maw of his helmet turned to face Clara again, waiting to see her reaction to all of this.

To be honest, she had no words. The narrative he'd given to her had been tragic, far more complex than she'd have imagined … but above all, it felt genuine. There was no doubt in her mind that the Hunter's words were true, and that the events he'd told her were not some work of fiction, but actual history.

But that didn't mean that it had answered all of her questions. And first and foremost was a realization she'd come to in the last few minutes.

"Mathias … Woods?"

The Hunter sat there silently, having not realized the clue he'd given her to make the connection. When he did, he lowered his head and stood up, proceeding to pace over to the fire and stoke it a few times.

She followed his movements in awe. "You … you're him, aren't you? Mathias?"

He gave a long and drawn out exhalation. Rising back onto his feet, he stood there with his back to her for a few moments before finally responding in a hushed whisper.

"Yes."

"I thought you said he was dead?" she questioned, not understanding his reasoning for hiding his identity.

"He is," Woods replied sharply. "The man I was then- he's been gone a long time. He faded away with the years, driven out by hate and isolation until all that was left was me, this … broken shell of what I used to be."

He spoke low and dejectedly, his tone full of pain and regret. Whether it was directed towards himself or the events that made him this way, she didn't know.

"What about the others?" she continued, still feeling at a loss in understanding how this all came to be. "You said that they all died, but all of you made it out of the Messenger's trap alive; even SIVA was destroyed by Sara and Reynard. So- ?"

"I didn't say that SIVA killed them," he muttered, "I said that they died because I failed when they needed me most."

Tentatively, she asked, "What happened?"

His hands clenched into fists before rising up to his head and gripping the sides of his helmet. With a quick pull, it came free and he turned around to face her.

His hair was a salt-and-pepper combination of brown and white mingled together, and that was true for the short, full beard that adorned his chin as well. She couldn't tell whether the white was from age or stress, as the rest of his face seemed to be relatively youthful. A deep scar ran across his right eye, rendering it blind. Looking into his remaining eye, a vibrant green one, she saw quite the opposite message that his countenance gave her.

While his face seemed far younger than she'd have expected of someone supposedly centuries old, his eye spoke of innumerable years of hardship that only came with the experiences of age. And right now, it was reliving one of those years.

"As time went on," he began, "public opinion of the Guardians began to change. Aside from a few scarce threats here and there, some new foe to kill, the war with the Darkness was put on halt, for reasons that I still don't understand to this day. It seemed as though one day it just stopped caring. The Hive withdrew back to whatever worlds they'd claimed as their own, the Vex disappeared to keep trying to find a way to survive the end of everything, you get the picture. And that left a lot of people wondering what our purpose was anymore."

He walked back over to his stool, and sat down. "The people of the City called us obsolete, said that we weren't needed anymore. Over time, that opinion lead to greater changes. The Vanguard no longer led the City, only the Guardians. A new government was formed, one that took no time in restricting Guardians' activities. Fearful of us attempting to usurp power, we were essentially decommissioned. Warlocks and Titans were rolled into the Task Force, making up the backbone of several splinter groups. But Hunters …"

He shook his head angrily. "We were completely stripped of our name. We were kept from exploring and conquering the wilds, our rogue nature deemed too dangerous to allow us independent reign. If one of us so much as sneezed, we were detained. The City became less of a refuge for humanity, and more of a prison for Guardians. And at the head of it all was one group, one insidious faction that influenced everything; perpetuating the myth of our danger to humanity, blaming us and the Light for the collapse, and waiting for the right moment to take control."

"The Trinary Star," Clara breathed, finally understanding the severity of the situation. "They're behind it all."

He nodded. "They claimed that the true nature of the universe lies in shadow, and that the collapse was just the Darkness trying to return everything to its natural order. They are the very antithesis of a Guardian."

"That's why they've been denying your existence!" she exclaimed. "If they hate the light, then you're the last remnant of their opposition! No wonder they've been trying to cover up the history of the Guardians."

She stared at him. "But then where did they all go? How did they all just … disappear?"

"They didn't," he replied, his voice low and dark. "Our purpose was to protect humanity, and so we stayed in defiance of the new regime. We didn't realize that that was exactly what the Star wanted. Once the time was right … they struck."

He turned to her, his face ablaze with fury.

"They aren't just responsible for the Guardians' disappearance. They killed them."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Alright, so some news before you go.**_

 _ **First, I have a discord server for both discussion of GND and the Architects' series. There's a good chunk of people in it already, but if you haven't joined yet then you can use the invite ( discord dot gg/w9VYdTS) without any spaces. Just type that in your web address bar (assuming you have a discord account) and you should be good. There's channels for story discussion, general talk and more on there, and I'm almost always available for a chat if you want to personally talk to me.**_

 _ **Second item on the list, I'm writing a completely original novel of my own! It's titled "Eden: The Cell", and it can be found on wattpad under the same username that I use here, "Matteoarts". It's a complex sci-fi novel that I've been world-building for two years now, and I'd love for you guys to check it out if you truly are a fan of my writing.**_

 _ **Now, feel free to leave a review/comment with your thoughts on the chapter. Like I said, this story isn't over by a longshot. Still plenty of conflict to go.**_

 _ **Until the next time,**_

 _ **\- Matteoarts**_


	22. Ouroboros

_Certain positions- often labeled heretical- imply that the Traveler itself triggered the Collapse, or that it knew the Darkness was coming for it and hoped to use the Solar System as a sacrifice or a proxy army. The Trinary Star cult is one notable example._

 _These beliefs are unfounded, as are most claims we make of the Traveler- whether beneficial or detrimental in regards to our survival. However, the Trinary Star treats their beliefs as an absolute truth rather than a theoretical premise. Those who don't share their radical viewpoints are branded as slaves to their fascination with the Light. Guardians are outright demonized, and many members of the cult refuse to acknowledge their authority in city matters._

 _Nothing notable has happened yet, but I'm lead to wonder just how far they would take their faith if given the opportunity. An old saying instructs one to never attribute to malice what can be explained with ignorance- but is this ignorance, or simply a dangerous delusion that they seem intent on feeding to themselves an others?_

 _And how large of a threat could that same delusion be when combined with the cleverness they've so clearly demonstrated in the past?_

 _ **\- Ancient texts from an unknown Warlock's studies of the Darkness**_

* * *

The Stag entered the circular chamber, light flickering from the few candles that lit the room.

Their shadows looming across the wall behind them, five hooded individuals awaited the cessation of his movement. He continued to walk until he joined the burning wicks in the center of the room, then stopped and waited silently for what came next.

"You were careless."

He said nothing in defense of himself- either feeling deserving of the scorn, or so indifferent to their opinion that her words did not matter. She pressed on, determined to make him see reason.

"You are our leader for a reason, Stag. None have exemplified our ideals and demonstrated more loyalty to our beliefs than you have. But your fixation with this Hunter-"

"I was _bold,"_ the Stag stated quietly, his voice barely reaching a whisper. It commanded silence from those who surrounded him just as easily as it did fear. "Not careless. If you see fixation, then you are blind to how great a threat he is."

"And just how great do you propose we see him to be?" a deep voice rebuked. "Your words suggest that we should revere him-"

"Not revere … but _respect."_

Again, the others fell silent.

"You cannot truly understand your enemy until you learn to respect him as you do yourself. Before you acknowledge them as an equal, pride will blind you," he continued. "For all my hatred, I do respect him- and it is because of that that I know so long as even _one_ Guardian remains alive, our entire way of life is at stake."

There was a pause before a third member spoke in reply, "Be that as it may, your performance in regards to the situation was … questionable. Our influence over the city rests on a delicate web of trust and veiled truths. Each string is held up by the others, relying on them for support. And as of the Hunter's reveal and your treatment of it … your thread is straining to hold up all the rest."

The hidden intent behind those words was not lost on the Stag. Slowly, he bowed his head in acceptance, the skull of his helmet glowing ominously as its empty sockets were illuminated by the dying candles.

"I understand."

"We trust that a summons such as this will not be required again. Is our faith well placed?"

"It is."

"Then go forth, Stag. May shadow fall in your every tread."

—X—

Woods had promptly denied any questions she asked him, or simply remained silent, after that point. It seemed that, despite alleviating some of the weight he carried, he wasn't ready to talk about everything yet. She now knew the truth that he'd carried with him so long- that Guardians were real, and they'd been killed by the Trinary Star.

As to _how_ that had happened, he simply refused to speak of it. And so it came to be that the two of them were now sitting in his ship as it flew to parts unknown. She'd watched as they left the atmosphere- and she'd understandably been more than a bit anxious to see that, having no memory of ever doing this- but she'd put her trust in the Hunter thus far, and it had not been in vain.

She looked over at him from the co-pilot's chair, quiet and feeling rather awkward. She hadn't meant to upset him- but obviously something had done so, or he wouldn't have ushered her onto the ship in such a hurry. She cleared her throat, something she just realized was a dead giveaway for being fake as she didn't actually possess muscles or an esophagus.

He sighed at the sound, and she knew he'd picked up on that. However- nothing ventured, nothing gained. "So … you still haven't told me where we're going."

"Somewhere you'll be taken care of," he muttered, continuing to stare straight ahead. "You don't need to know anything more than that until we get there- it's safer that way."

She had a feeling he wasn't going to budge on the issue, but at least he was talking to her again. Clara decided to press on, sensing an opportunity.

"What happened to your eye?"

His helmet sat near his feet, so she had a good view of his scarred eye, dull and milky compared to the other one. At the mention of it, he emitted another sigh. "It happened during my last run-in with the Stag."

"You've fought the Stag before?"

"A few times- tends to happen when you've got nothing to do for centuries other than survive. He and his men cornered me in the EDZ- the European Dead-Zone. It was a close call- I got away, but he managed to give me this," he growled, pointing at his eye, "as a parting gift."

"Couldn't you heal it? I thought the light-"

"He chooses not to," came a feminine voice, and Clara looked at the air in front of her as his ghost materialized. This was the first time that Seraph had spoken to her, and she noted how disapproving the AI sounded in regards to her Guardian's decision. "I've tried to tell him otherwise, but he prefers to keep the scars he's earned. So he's been half-blind for the last eighty years."

"Eighty years?" Clara yelped. "I just- I can't imagine how long you've been around if that's considered 'recent.' Why haven't you aged at all? I know you've got a few gray hairs here and there, but I'd imagine that's more due to stress than anything …"

Woods pursed his lips. "All Guardians had an extended lifespan thanks to the Traveler's light, about triple in length. But … that time came and went for me, and I was still young. As best I can figure, being put through so many cycles in the time-stream due to Reynard and Sara had an unseen side-effect; time doesn't affect me. I'm just … frozen like this."

He furrowed his brow and turned to look at her. "At least my mind keeps its edge and wit, thanks to that- would've probably gone insane otherwise, so many centuries' worth of memories and all. Still … things sometimes slip from me. Can't hold onto everything," he murmured wistfully.

"What about the Stag? How has he been around as long as you?"

Woods' face took on a disgusted expression. "His means are a bit more … insidious."

She was about to ask what he meant when a blinking light caught her attention on the console in front of her. Before she could alert the Hunter to it, Seraph expanded her body and routed the signal through the comms.

" _Intruder bearing 298, you are trespassing into the realm of the Awoken."_

Out of seemingly nowhere, two tri-tipped ships sidled alongside them. _"Turn back, or be fired upon-"_

"Oh, shut up," he muttered, keeping them on course. "Seraph, transmit the codes to them please."

There was a moment of silence on the other end as they tried to process what exactly had just happened. When they received whatever the ghost had sent them, however, they became far more accommodating. _"Our apologies, sir. What is the nature of your visit?"_

"I have a guest," he replied. "I can vouch for her, but it's not safe for her on Terra. I was hoping that the Queen would be gracious enough to grant me an audience?"

" _Of course. Do you have any other requests?"_

"Only that her personal guard is in attendance."

" _We will contact the Queen immediately,"_ their escort affirmed. _"Please conform to our trajectory- we will guide you in."_

The two ships sped ahead and in front of their own, curving to the left as they displayed the correct path. Clara glanced over at Woods in anxious relief.

"I take it that they know about you?"

"The Queen and I are familiar with one another," he answered shortly. "The Awoken and other inhabitants of the Reef keep to themselves, staying out of the affairs of Earth. They refuse to openly oppose the Trinary Star, but they lend me support when I ask for it."

"How often do you ask?"

"About once a decade or two. I like to keep to myself too."

Ghost suddenly appeared, his focus entirely on the Hunter and his voice sounding rather fearful. "That's nice, really- but you were saying something about 'insidious' means that the Stag uses to keep himself young? I'd like to know more about that."

Woods glared at him with distaste, but relented. "As best I can tell, he … _drains_ others of their Light. Keepers, ghosts, whatever. Whether they're forced prisoners or willing acolytes who offer themselves up for sacrifice, he takes their life force and uses it to rejuvenate himself. Once he's done, there's nothing left of the victim but husk."

Clara felt herself shrink a bit at that lovely image. "I thought the Star hated the Light?"

"They do," he agreed, "but I think their mindset is something along the lines of fighting fire with fire. They've taken the Light, corrupted it with … _something_ … and used it as a means to control that which they seek to destroy."

"The Darkness?" Clara suggested, breathless at the thought of the entity returning and joining with the Light to form something … _new._

He shook his head. "I don't think so. Paranoid as I might be, I haven't seen so much as a Dreg in years. And the Darkness was never something that seemed fond of fighting battles on its own, it always used proxies like its armies." His hands tightened slightly on the sticks. "Still … I suppose it's a possibility that can't be completely ruled out."

The simple acknowledgement of her proposal as a possible reality sent an involuntary shudder through her body.

The rest of the flight carried out in silence, nothing but the corpses of colony ships in the purple void to accompany them.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Hiatus over.**_

 _ **Yes, GND is back. No, the updates will likely not be consistent. Motivation to write Destiny-related stuff is at a massive low, thanks to the shitshow that was the Destiny 2 launch and post-launch support. But I'm still gonna try to get chapters of this out when I can, so don't fret.**_

 _ **Ignore any discord invites you saw in the past- they're outdated and for a different server. I have a new server where both my writing and film fans are rather active, and you can join using the link below if you're so inclined. Simply remove the spaces, and you'll be set;**_

 **discord . gg / 6nwfXCj**

 _ **Hopefully I'll see you there. Until the next time,**_

 _ **\- Matteoarts**_


	23. Revelations

_Not much is known of the Reef anymore. The Awoken isolated themselves from the rest of the Solar System long ago in the centuries past. Many have attempted to learn more of our history and the validity of the legends that speak of Guardians by venturing out into their space and seeking an audience._

 _Few return. And of those that do, none survive for long._

 _There are severe penalties for any who leave Terra. Though enforced by the City, it was the Trinary Star who first proposed such regulation over the populace. And while the results cannot be argued with, it is the motivations which we can analyze._

 _Are the sanctions in place to set a precedent, to act as a deterrent in an effort to discourage curious wanderers from running headfirst into grave danger? Or do the Awoken know a horrible truth, one which the Star will go to any lengths to keep from being revealed?_

 _ **\- Last known writings of a Keeper executed for her attempts to leave Earth**_

* * *

The walkway to the Queen's throne was long, quiet, and rather precarious. No railings adorned the sides of the lengthy bridge-like structure; nothing to stop one from simply leaning slightly too far over the edge and falling into the void below.

The whole chamber was swathed in purple light as most of the Reef was, its space forever stained by the clash of Light and Dark so many centuries ago. It had been made from the hollowed-out carcass of a colony ship. It gave quite the mysterious (and ominous, Clara thought) flair that she imagined the Awoken intended for any visitors.

She remained close to Woods, trailing behind him nervously as the royal guards' helmets hid their eyes and mouth, keeping their faces a mystery and their stances stoic and unyielding. Though he'd assured her that they were allies, she couldn't help but feel that not one of them would hesitate to kill her if she made a wrong move.

"Approach, Hunter."

Her attention was torn away from the guards and towards the throne which they'd finally arrived at. It rested upon a large circular platform which the bridge fed into and widened out to support. In the center was another cylindrical platform which had stairs upon the side, leading up to the top. Finally, there was a large velvet felt chair which appeared almost alien in nature. There were spikes which rose into the air from the back of it, yet another sign that these people were not to be trifled with.

Sitting almost lazily upon it was an Awoken woman who stared at them from the shadowed canopy of her throne with glowing ice-blue eyes. It was hard to make out specific features, but she appeared rather fair-faced from what Clara could see. Her hair was short, looking more like a choppy pixie cut than anything else where it rested in layers upon her scalp, occasionally drifting over her eyes. It was lightish in color- either white or a faded lilac. If Clara wasn't so anxious about their situation, she might have labelled the Queen as rather beautiful.

Next to her was a hooded guard, one who was wrapped from head to toe in robes that covered every inch of their body. They stood attentively, watching the newcomers with interest and awaiting to see how the situation would play out- likely to discern whether they'd be needed. She heard Woods clear his throat to speak …

"Being a little dramatic, aren't we? If I'd known this was the welcome I'd receive, I might not have come."

Slowly, Clara turned in shock to look at Woods as he mouthed off to the Awoken's leader. Was he insane? The woman led an entire race of matriarchal warriors, and he wanted to open a dialogue like _that?_

What was even more surprising was the woman's reaction. Instead of ordering her guards to seize them, she simply narrowed her eyes and … _laughed._

To Clara's bewilderment, the Queen's face lost all traces of anger and she threw her head back in laughter. Standing up, her laughter slowly ebbed away and was replaced with a smirk which she mischievously flashed at Woods. "You were the one who taught me that before the battle of the weapons comes the battle of the mind, hence the need for a dramatic entrance. I've still got to maintain some level of stoicism, right?"

Ghost, hovering off to Clara's right, glanced at her in confusion. "I … have no clue what's happening here."

That bewilderment only escalated as the Queen and Woods approached each other, and threw their arms around one another in a mutual hug. They stayed like that for several seconds before pulling away. The woman placed her hands on her hips, smiling brightly at Woods. "So Uncle, what brings you here?"

Clara blinked rapidly, at a loss for words. Somehow she managed to choke out, "Uh … Uncle?"

Woods turned to address her. "Clara, this is my niece, Talia … Queen of the Reef."

"Yes, my scouts did mention something about you taking on a ward," Talia muttered, stepping forward and seemingly analyzing her. "Clara, is it?"

The poor Exo had no idea how to react in the presence of royalty, and simply conformed to her first instinct- bowing low in respect. As she arched over forward in submission, the Awoken woman chuckled and gestured for her to stop. "It's alright- I'm not one for that sort of thing, though I appreciate the intent."

Embarrassed, Clara rose back up and mumbled an apology. Talia continued to scrutinize her- but this time, it felt as though there was a deeper layer to her probing. She appeared to be taking note of Clara's appearance, looking for specific details and confirming suspicions upon seeing them there in her face.

Finally, she stepped back and looked to the Hunter for answers. "You've never brought anyone with you before now. What changed?"

"The truth of my existence has been revealed."

At once, the tone in the room changed. Royal guards, which had before stood upright and unmoving, suddenly turned to look in awe at what he'd just said. Talia's eyes widened in disbelief.

"What?"

"I came to the temple. There was a crowd waiting for me, and the Trinary Star assaulted the mountain." He pointed at Clara. "She stood against them, trying to keep the Stag from reaching me. I saved her life and took her with me- it's no longer safe for her there."

Talia sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I can't believe … we need to discuss this in private." Turning back towards the throne, she gestured for her hooded observer to follow them. Woods fell into step behind her, and Clara mirrored him. The Queen turned left on the throne pedestal and began ascending a flight of stairs which led deeper into the infrastructure of the derelict ship.

Clara tried to remain silent, but her mind burned with a multitude of questions. Quietly, she sidled up next to the Hunter and whispered, "So … your niece. How did that happen, becoming Queen of the Reef and all?"

"It's a long story," he muttered back, keeping his voice low as well. "But unlike the last one, I don't have the time to tell it. Maybe she'll humor you if you ask her."

Before he could expand on that, the four of them entered a large room as the doors shut behind them. It was ornate, in blatantly better shape than the condition of the ship it resided within would have led her to believe. She would have expected gold, but it seemed as though silver or platinum were the more prized materials in the Reef. It capped the ends of table legs, and the headrest of the large bed that sat in the center of the back wall.

Talia turned and gestured to the room in light of Clara's awed expression. "Welcome to my chambers. I guarantee there's no more secure a place throughout the Reef than right here- so let's get down to business."

Woods nodded and turned to the fourth occupant. "I'm sure you noticed the similarities when you first saw her?"

"I did," came a voice from under the shawl that Talia's personal guard wore. This was the first time they'd spoken- Clara heard a distinctly feminine voice, one full of hard edges and distrust from years of experience. If the Queen had frightened her before, it was nothing compared to the unease that this particular character gave her.

Slowly, a hand pushed its way out of the robes- one that was silvery and metallic.

"Hang on-"

Before Clara could finish her sentence, said hand grabbed the edge of their cowl and pulled it back. What was underneath had not been what she'd expected at all.

"Hello, Clara."

Underneath the hood was an Exo like her- in more ways than one. The two of them shared the same white coloration, the same silver accents running along their bodies, and the same glowing blue eyes that now stared at one another.

Ghost looked from the stranger to Clara repeatedly. "Uh … am I seeing double?"

"Clara, this is Amelia," Woods introduced, gesturing towards the guard. "She's an old friend, and someone who might know more about your past."

"It's been a long time since I last saw you," Amelia began, stepping forward and analyzing her from several different angles as Talia had done. "I believed you to be dead- but it would appear that I was wrong."

"Happy to disappoint," Clara muttered, narrowing her eyes a bit. Amelia didn't seem to notice, or else she simply didn't care. She furrowed her metallic brow, tilting her head in curiosity.

"How many wipes have you had?"

"One."

"What do you remember?"

Clara shook her head. "Nothing. The only remnants of my memory were that I'm an Exo … and my last instructions to myself had been to walk out and die in a frozen tundra."

"Yeah, it was a real chipper moment when she told me that," Ghost snarked.

"Interesting," Amelia stated. "Your situation makes you quite complex, to put it plainly."

"Why?"

The other Exo paused. "You've only had one wipe, and you chose to erase all of your memory rather than parts. That leads me to believe that some event must have triggered enough desperation in you to warrant such drastic action- and with how the timelines correlate, I imagine that I have a good guess of when that must have been."

Clara blinked. "Really?"

"Yes. With the death of the Guardians."

The room became silent. Woods said nothing, but she could sense the tension radiating from him. She'd learned by now that it was very much a touchy subject for him. She decided to steer the conversation towards less specific, but equally important topics concerning her.

"How does that make me complex?"

"If you'd never wiped before, then you would have had all the aggregate knowledge of your life's experiences until that point," Amelia explained. "You would likely have been one of the wisest and most well-versed people alive at the time. But with your wipe, you lost all of that wisdom … and now you stand here, innocent and ignorant as a child."

She was willing to ignore the 'child' remark for now as the revelations of her past piqued her interest … and chagrin. "So you're saying I went from being some kind of philosophical sage to being … me?"

Her tone was tinged with disappointment, and it was not lost on those around her. Ghost hurriedly flew in front of her. "And what's wrong with being you?"

"I was just told I used to be a savant- and the only useful thing _I've_ done so far is nearly get myself killed. You can imagine why hearing about my past might be a bit of a letdown," she muttered, bitterness seeping into her tone.

"No," she heard to her right, and felt herself light up with surprise as she felt a strong hand on her shoulder. She looked to see Woods staring at her fiercely. "You're inexperienced, yes- but that didn't stop you from standing up for what you thought was right. Even after you watched that Keeper die, you were ready to share his fate if it meant protecting me, someone you didn't even know … that's the mark of a Guardian."

She was speechless, honored by his comforting praise. He retracted his hand and nodded to her. "You have a good heart- don't let yourself believe otherwise."

"Mathias is right," Amelia agreed, drawing Clara's attention back to her. "I've wiped many memories in the thousands of years I've been alive- but I've never erased the important ones. I remember you from the facility on Mars. We didn't know each other particularly well, but what I do know was that you were loved by all. You were there to support the others when we needed help, there to comfort us in our times of fear. We had many worries- concerns that the project would fail, that we would never see our loved ones again … but you always set aside your own misgivings to ensure that ours didn't overwhelm us."

Looking down slightly, she continued. "If I could every describe you in one word, it would have been 'hope.' Perhaps the reason you finally wiped … was because you lost it."

She held a hand up as Clara moved to speak. "That is not to say that hope is dead, however. Now, with you here … it has been reborn. You may not be a well of knowledge any longer, but your role in this tale is no unimportant one."

Talia nodded in affirmation. "Well said. And if your presence here is any indication, we may need hope more than you know."

Crossing her arms, she looked at Woods with an expression of worry and resignation. "Does she know about _him?_ My brother?"

Clara raised a brow-plate in confusion. "Your brother? I'm sorry, but I don't know anything about your-"

"Yes … you do."

She felt a chill run up her spine as she faced Woods, his head lowered and his voice dropping to match. "You asked me before what my connection is to the Stag … why he wants to kill me."

He looked up at her, and she felt nothing but pain and regret emanating from his remaining green eye, wetness forming at its corners.

"He's my son."

* * *

 _ **A/N: I'm sure some of you are going to look at that family tree and scratch your heads. Yes, there is a logical explanation. Chill.**_

 _ **Reviews are always appreciated, and I'd love to hear your guys' thoughts on the chapter. Trying to get my rhythm back for writing GND, slowly but surely.**_

 _ **Until the next time,**_

 _ **\- Matteoarts**_


	24. Prophesied Eventuality

… _And from the Traveler will be birthed a Child of Light, one whose sworn duty shall be to initiate the Balance. From the Balance will come equality, and through equality- order._

 _The scales of the Light and the Darkness refuse to be stilled for long- always, one will eventually outweigh the other. But from this Child of Light, this great equalizer who will bring the Balance upon us … there will come a new age in which neither the Light nor the Darkness may gain an advantage over the other._

 _Balance allows no bias in its judgement- its nature does not permit it. No quarter will be given … nor mercy._

 _ **\- Lost text of an ancient Warlock prophecy**_

* * *

Clara blinked a few times, her glowing eyes winking on and off as she tried to process that bombshell of a reveal. "… This has to be the most dysfunctional family tree I've ever heard of-"

He saw the expression of utter shock on her face, and immediately held his hands up to stay her reaction. " _Adopted_ son, I should say. I just- it's easy to forget that."

Talia nodded in agreement and turned to her. "My brother was taken in by my uncle when he was only a child. Our parents …" She paused. "It's complicated- but he raised my brother and I as his own children. Make no mistake- I may call him 'Uncle', but he was a father to both of us."

Clara looked back at Woods. His gaze was averted, seemingly trying to avoid their conversation. She felt a wave of sympathy for the Hunter- it was obvious that the topic was not a particularly pleasant one for him to think about.

"Woods? Are you alright?"

He seemed to come out of a trance as she spoke softly to him, his eye focusing on her as he regained his senses. "Yes, I- I'm fine." He looked back at Amelia and the Queen. "So, will you watch over her?"

Talia hesitated to answer. Her eyes were wary, almost reluctant to agree, though Clara couldn't discern quite why. "Uncle … I would ask that you _think_ about this-"

"I've done my thinking," he answered her quietly. "The last time I came here- I expected it to be exactly that. You know where I stand. Please … just humor an old man, would you?"

The Awoken tensed up for a few seconds before finally allowing her body to relax. She swallowed hard. "I promise … she'll be protected and treated as one of our own."

Woods nodded gratefully. "Thank you." Then he turned to Clara, who still wasn't quite sure of what was happening.

"You're safe now. The people here, they'll take care of you." He paused, then reached forward and grabbed her arm in a respectful shake. "It was a privilege to have met you, Clara."

He spun around and began to walk out of the Queen's quarters. Clara lightly shook her head in bewilderment. "Wait- what? Where are you going?"

"To do what I should have done a long time ago."

She began to follow him, still in the dark as to what he was referring to. "You're not talking about … you don't mean trying to face the Stag yourself? Woods, there's too many- they'll _kill_ you if you try-"

"I know."

Clara stopped in her tracks, and the Hunter rotated once more to look her in the eyes. "I'm not leaving to face the Stag. If it came down to the two of us, I don't- I don't think I could ever bring myself to kill him. I …" He trailed off, unable to finish his sentence.

She spoke with a tremble in her voice as she realized his true intent. "You're going to hand yourself over to them. You're going to let the Star kill you."

He bowed his head deeply, not bothering to deny it. When he raised his head up again, she saw a few stray tears sliding down his cheeks and into his beard.

"I am so glad people like you still exist, Clara," he muttered with a slight smile. "People who are willing to put themselves in harm's way for the good of others. I told you when we first met- you reminded me of myself when I was younger. I thank you for trying to save me."

Slowly, he raised his helmet up and placed it over his head before pulling the hood over it and concealing its maw within its shadow. "But things would have been easier for all of us if you'd just let me die."

Without another word, he turned one final time and exited back through the corridors towards the throne room.

Clara stood there at a loss for words, her heart racing as a feeling of helplessness grew inside her and threatened to overwhelm her. Beside her, Ghost materialized. "Clara, your vitals are spiking. I think you need to-"

She tore herself away from where her feet had seemingly turned to stone, and ran back to the Queen's quarters where Talia had sadly watched the Hunter's retreating back. "Please, don't let him do this-"

"His destiny is his own," the Queen answered numbly. "It's not my place to judge if he wants to end it."

"But _why?"_ Clara argued, "Why does he want this?"

"You don't understand-" she tried to explain, but Clara cut her off.

" _Then_ _help me understand!"_

Talia looked like she wanted to argue, but the Exo's face shone with genuine concern and care for her friend. Her jaw tightened for a moment, and then finally she relented.

"Amelia … tell the guards to prevent any access to the hangar until I say otherwise."

The Queen's guard nodded, and then held up her wrist as she exited the room. "Royal Guard, this is Paladin Amelia. The Queen has ordered an immediate cessation of landings or takeoffs, acknowledge …"

Once they were alone, Talia sighed heavily. "Tragedy seems to strike his life whenever fortune finds him. Death surrounds him, wreaking vengeance upon the ones he loves time and time again. His whole life has been dedicated to fighting the Darkness so that others wouldn't have to. An existence filled with war, sorrow, and loss … it's not a fate I would wish upon my worst enemy."

She seemed to notice the nearby ornate table, and gestured towards it as an invitation. Clara followed her lead, and the two of them sat down in chairs on opposite ends.

"So why does he insist on doing everything alone?" Clara whispered in hurt frustration. "He says meeting me was a privilege, but he rejects all of my attempts to talk with him, to _help_ him. And then he tries to leave me behind- does he really care so little for me?"

"You've got it backwards," Talia replied, shaking her head. "It's _because_ he cares about you that he tried to leave you behind."

"I … I don't follow."

"Every family he's ever known is taken from him. He doesn't want to get attached because … he's afraid to lose you too."

 _Every family …_

Steeling herself for the ultimate question, Clara looked up at Talia with an unwavering stare. "What happened to the Guardians?"

For a moment, it didn't seem like the Queen would answer. She pursed her lips and inhaled sharply- but then the tension left her body, and she nodded in agreement.

"We Awoken … we lead very long lifespans naturally due to the direct exposure of both light and darkness when they originally clashed with our people in the Vestian web," she began. "All this happened centuries ago … and even now, it's hard to keep the screams out of my head. The day still haunts my darkest moments."

She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. "My brother was born before the Guardians fell out of favor with the City. I was no more than a child at the time- but even I understood what a monumental moment it was."

"Why?"

"I told you, our parents … it's complicated."

Clara crossed her arms. "I've seen and heard about a lot of shit over the past few days. Try me."

Talia's eyebrows shot up at Clara's lexicon, but it seemed to work. "Our parents were Guardians who were part of my Uncle's team … some of his closest friends. Who they were wasn't important so much as _what_ they were."

"What do you mean?"

"My birth-mother was named Aria. She was a Warlock who had been at my Uncle's side from the beginning."

Clara nodded. "I know her- Woods told me about his team."

The Queen raised an eyebrow. "Did he? Consider yourself lucky, he never speaks of his history freely. You must have made quite the impression." She cleared her throat. "I was more of an accident than anything- a result of my mother, a bottle of spirits, and a night of inebriation. I never knew my father, though I heard he wasn't involved in anything to do with me aside from his initial … contribution."

Talia chuckled at the wording. "But that was alright- when I was very young my mother ended up marrying someone she chose to be with out of love rather than poor judgement. It wasn't until I was six that my brother was born- and with him came thousands of questions and very few answers."

Clara pinched her brow plates together. "What caused such a reaction?"

"Because both of my parents were women."

Clara had no real words for that other than to ask, "Who was the other?"

"Her true name wasn't often spoken- she kept it close to her heart like a guarded secret," Talia breathed. "But most everyone else referred to her by her chosen name … Scorch. It was she who gave birth to my brother."

"How did …?" asked Clara, her words trailing off.

"How did that happen?" Talia clarified with a smirk. "Initially, the rationalization was infidelity- but the truth was that my other mother had never been with a man before. After the Warlocks examined her and thought about her connection to an ancient prophecy … it was decided that the light itself had manifested within her and blessed my parents with another child."

"What prophecy?"

"The great Balance," Talia uttered. "It had been foretold long before that a Child of Light, an individual whose soul has been created by the Traveler itself, would bring about a massive event known only as the Balance. There are no details as to what the Balance is- only that it will bring equality to both the light and the dark."

"And Scorch was the one from the prophecy?" Clara pieced together. Talia nodded in confirmation.

"From the start, my brother was treated with reverence. Everyone was wondering what role he would play in my mother's destiny, whether he was a vital part of it- no one knew what to expect. For the most part, neither of my mothers cared- all they knew was that he was their son, and they loved him. They encouraged me and others to treat him as a regular child, trying to give him the experience of a normal life." She shook her head sadly.

"But the life of a Guardian is anything but normal … and it wasn't long before tragedy struck my family."

Clara leaned in, listening intently.

"The Red War brought extinction to our doorstep. The Cabal carried out a siege of the City, capturing the Traveler's power for their own and stealing the Guardians' light. Many believed it to be the end, that the Darkness had finally secured victory … never before had such a threat arisen to face humanity."

"What happened?"

"It's another story altogether," Talia explained, "but the long and short of it was that we prevailed. The Legends were at the forefront of our victory, leading the assault against Ghaul and his Red Legion- but it came at the cost of Scorch's life."

Silence filled the room, Talia's tone becoming heavy at the mention of her adoptive mother's death. "Her sacrifice saved us all- and we are forever in her debt. But before she died, she made my Uncle promise to help Aria raise my brother and me. He was named as our guardian, after all."

Clara was beginning to understand. "So your brother was only a baby when Woods stepped in to help raise the two of you …"

"Indeed. He and his wife, Ash, had nothing but love for the two of us, helping take care of us for my mother whenever they could. My brother didn't know any better the first time he called my Uncle 'father'- he'd heard some other children say it, and simply felt the description fit him perfectly. No one bothered to correct him.

"There were several years of peace afterwards. No large-scale invasions, no Hive gods seeking revenge … it much like the calm before the storm, in a way."

"What storm?"

Talia's gaze became stony. "My brother and I grew up together, so I feel confident in saying that I knew him best. One of the things that always troubled him was his origin- not where he came from, but _why he came._ He was overtaken by this obsession in his later years to find meaning in his life when I kept telling him it was all around him. Our family, our friends- none of it mattered to him as much as finding out the reason of his existence did. He began studying the Light, and then the Light's war with the Darkness, and then the Darkness itself … you can see where I'm going with this," Talia sighed.

"He found the power of the Darkness alluring," Clara guessed.

Talia nodded. "His reasoning was that his mother had fought for the Light, even saved it- but it had done nothing of the sort for her. He pictured the Darkness's chase of the Traveler like a fox spending a lifetime hunting a rabbit. Many times, the rabbit may escape death and prolong the inevitable- but its fate is just that. Sooner or later, he believed the Darkness would consume the Light … and it would be prudent to be on the winning side.

"Nothing substantial happened for awhile, but the thoughts persisted in his mind … and as time went on, something insidious began to grow in his heart. He fought with my Uncle on more than one occasion, trying to persuade him and other Guardians that punishment would be brought upon us all unless we actively worked to help the Darkness excel at a task it was already fated to complete.

"Finally, their refusal drove him over the edge. He made his move one night to assassinate the Vanguards of the Guardians … including my Uncle."

Talia looked down, her expression somber. "He did not succeed at killing any of them, permanently at least- their Ghosts remained active, and my Uncle managed to best him. But he saw at last what he'd been trying to avoid seeing for years- that my brother was a credible threat to both the Guardians and the City. Ultimately, his fate rested with Mathias."

"What did he do?"

Talia shrugged resignedly. "The only thing he could do, really- he exiled him from the City. Normally, such a traitor might have been put to death- but he cared too much for my brother to do such a thing, and his power was growing to the point of becoming uncontainable. Before he left, he vowed that he'd be back and would reveal just how blind we'd all been to the threat of the Darkness. Things were tense after that- my mother had a falling out with my Uncle and Aunt, and Mathias felt that he'd broken his promise to my other mother.

"Time went on, and my brother's act of treachery inspired dark thoughts in the minds of the City's citizens. The Guardians' purpose was questioned, as was their ability to defend us. Some began to wonder if he was right, if humanity would ever be free from the Darkness's grasp. As it turns out, that had been what my brother hoped for all along- and when the opportunity presented itself, the next stage of his plan came to fruition."

"And … what was that?" Clara whispered fearfully.

Talia's eyes shone with the telltale glistening of tears, but they burned with the memory that was forever etched in her mind.

"He returned."

* * *

 _ **Next chapter is a flashback chapter. If you want to know what to expect from it, its theme is 'Lockdown' from the Age of Extinction OST. Go ahead and give it a search on YouTube.**_

 _ **Feel free to join the discord server for my film and writing here;**_

 **discord . gg / 6nwfXCj**

 _ **Just be sure to remove the spaces, and you'll be right as rain.**_

 _ **Until the next time,**_

 _ **\- Matteoarts**_


	25. Death of the Guardians

**THE LAST CITY, MANY YEARS AGO**

In an instant, he was awake.

Years of training and experience told him that something was wrong, and he was already reaching for his knife from under his pillow with one hand while he used the other to rouse the sleeping Exo next to him.

"Honey, wake up- something's happening."

Her eyes winked on, the blue glowing rings of her irises shining bright in the dark of their room. "Hmm? What do you-"

He held a finger over his lips, and she became quiet in an instant. The two of them were fully on alert now, listening intently to the world around their abode.

There- a staccato of gunfire erupted somewhere outside. It was faint- not too far off, but nowhere in the immediate vicinity. He could hear muffled voices; some of them yelling, others crying out unintelligibly. And there was some kind of high pitched noise not unlike the whistle of a kettle, steadily growing closer and louder-

" _Get down!"_ he shouted, covering her with his body and diving off the bed. It wasn't a second later that they felt an intense wave of heat as their roof exploded, showering them with chunks of metal debris.

The seconds passed, and no second explosion seemed to be coming- it must have been a random shot. Hastily moving to stand, they looked up through the new hole in their roof and were greeted with a horrific sight.

Ships danced around each other in the sky, shooting at each other as stray missiles fell off course and impacted randomly in the city. Screams pierced the air- some from fear, others from loss.

"Oh my god," he heard his wife mutter beside him. Looking farther in the distance, he saw the tower as it colored the clouds orange from the flames burning atop it.

"Stay here," he muttered, briskly walking away towards the front door. At his side, his Ghost appeared and immediately went to work transmatting his armor over his body. He hadn't worn it in years- it felt odd, but familiar to him. A hand grabbed his shoulder from behind as his wife ignored his direction and followed.

"You don't think-?" he heard her ask him fearfully.

"It's the Trinary Star," he confirmed, his voice grim. "That's the only explanation."

She caught up to him, her own Ghost moving around her to equip her as well. The old white and red scheme of her Titan armor still suited her. "Then you must be joking, thinking I'm staying here-"

"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you," he said forcefully, his tone making it obvious that he wasn't going to debate this. She debated him anyway.

"Last I checked, you don't _tell_ me to do anything!" she argued, stopping his path as she came to stand in front of him. "You're my husband, I'm with you- that's the deal you agreed to when you married me!"

" _Ash."_

He held out a hand as he spoke her name, letting it come to a rest upon her shoulder. "This isn't some enemy we can gun down- the Star has the city's support." He gestured to the area around them, indicating the city- a place that had once been their home, and was now their prison. "Even if we managed to fend off this attack …"

"This is it," she breathed, realizing what he was saying. "There's nothing left for us here."

He nodded. "Find Aria and Tali, follow the contingency plan. Wait for me here- I'll get the others, then we can leave."

She was silent for a moment, then gave a nod of understanding. Confident that she knew what to do, he turned and ran down the street towards his target- the tower.

There were confused and frightened people running everywhere- some of them civilians, some of them Guardians. He caught their attention as he sprinted by in his armor, his cloak flowing freely behind him.

" _Is that …"_

" _A Hunter?"_

Most of the Guardians had found their influence waning in the last several years, but none more so than the Hunters. While all were legally prohibited from leaving Earth, the Warlocks and Titans had at least been integrated into the City Task Force. Hunters, on the other hand, were completely decommissioned and confined to the city. The new living blocks they'd been appointed were less like apartments and more like internment facilities.

To see a Hunter running through the street must have been quite the surprise for these people- but he had a feeling that he wouldn't be the only one returning to the line of duty tonight. He caught sight of another similarly clad individual near the base of the tower, looking up at the tower in horror.

"Shiro!"

The Exo turned around to see him approaching quickly from behind. "Mathias? That you?"

"What's happening?" he asked, skipping the pleasantries in the wake of such an event.

Shiro shook his head in shock. "I- I don't know. One minute, the night was silent- the next, everything's exploding around us." He looked up to the sky again to stare at the foreboding flames rising from the tower. "You're the Vanguard- what's our play?"

The other Hunter knew full well that he hadn't officially been a Vanguard in years- but it was nice to see that he still respected him as one all the same. He pointed to the elevators.

"We need to get up there, fast."

The two of them dashed through the lobby, all but abandoned save for a few Frames who still tended to their duties. Shiro pounded the buttons with his fist, then swore.

"Power's been cut- these cables aren't moving anytime soon."

"Maybe," he muttered, "maybe not. Seraph, can you reroute power from other hardlines in the building?"

"I can try," the Ghost said apprehensively, materializing in his hand and moving to inspect the panel-box. Focusing her beams onto precise parts of the wiring, it was roughly thirty seconds before a noticeable hum began emitting from the generator atop the elevator.

At once, they began to move up. Staring out through the glass doors, they all stood in silence at the view before them; a city under siege from its own people. Fires raged, explosions blossomed, and the air was shrill with the cries of the damned.

"How do we make it out of this one?" Shiro asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Matt didn't answer.

—X—

Ash stepped through the entryway of the building, checking her corners with her auto-rifle out of habit. "Tali? Talia, where are you?"

The lights had been switched off, leaving the interior bathed in shadow. Either the site had lost power, or there was someone trying to hide. She slowly walked around the furniture, looking around her for signs of her niece-

Movement caught her eye, and she looked to see a blue blur racing towards her. In an instant, her hands and gun were up in the air. "Tali! It's me!"

The blur slowed to a halt in recognition of her voice. "A-Auntie Ash?" Hesitantly, the Awoken girl stepped out of the darkness. Her whitish hair hung haphazardly in front of her face, and she held a dagger in her right hand. Nodding encouragingly, Ash pulled off her helmet.

"Yes, it's me! I'm here to get you out of-"

She felt Talia collide with her, wrapping her arms around the Titan and choking back a sob. "I don't know what's happening, I just heard screaming- my mother ran out to help, and I don't know where she is-"

Aria's daughter may have been nearing thirty, but that was barely an adult in an Awoken's lifespan- and the light of the Traveler didn't hurt with keeping her young.

"Your uncle is looking for your mother right now," Ash assured her, brushing the girl's hair out of her eyes. "We need to leave- the Trinary Star are attacking Guardians."

Talia swallowed hard. "It's him, isn't it? My brother?"

Ash hesitated. "I don't know yet. For now, we need to focus on following the contingency plan. Alright?"

A few seconds passed, then Talia nodded.

"Okay- let's go."

Leaving the building, Ash looked up and down the street for watchful eyes. A smoky fog crept over the ground, helping to obscure them from those who might wish to hurt them. She beckoned to the girl behind her, and the two of them ran down the road back towards Matt and Ash's residence. The screams had quieted now- the oppressive silence was almost worse than hearing them.

"This way," she whispered, entering an alleyway and running its length before it opened up into the next street over. She could see their building now, its roof still partially caved in on one side from the explosion.

"Is it safe?" Talia asked from behind her. Ash held a hand up to silence her as she analyzed the road. It didn't look like anyone was here …

"Stay close," she ordered. "If anything goes wrong, you _run._ Get to the safe-point, and lay low. Understand?"

Talia looked like she wanted to argue, but Ash continued to glare at her. She wasn't about to put her niece in harm's way. After a few moments, the girl reluctantly bowed her head.

Satisfied, Ash stealthily moved out of cover. She held her gun forward, seeking out potential targets. None made themselves apparent. Talia trailed closely, her feet moving silently as she'd been taught from growing up in a family of Guardians.

Ash leaned against the now crumbling wall of her home, peeking in to see if anyone was within its walls. If there was, she couldn't see them. She beckoned to Talia with her fingers.

"Hurry, let's-"

That was as far as she got before a blast of void energy nearly took her head off. In an instant, she was diving into the street, dodging more energy projectiles that came from up the road. Rolling into a crouching position, she saw her attacker leap from a nearby rooftop into the center of the road.

They wore slim and gleaming white robes, ribbons of bright blue light cascading down from underneath a shadowed hood. Curved pieces of armor seemed to flow from random points within the folds of their outfit, giving them an almost alien appearance. Without waiting to give her a respite, they flexed their hands in an almost reflexive manner and sent more beams of void spiraling towards her.

Raising her hands in front of her, Ash conjured up a shield to take the brunt of the force. She fought void with void, holding it out in front of her as she kept herself between the attacker and Talia.

" _RUN!"_ she yelled, hoping to buy her niece time to escape. When she sensed an opening, she rolled out of harm's way and threw the shield at her foe.

"No, please!" Talia pleaded, moving to help. The white-robed assassin held out a hand to stop the shield in mid-air, then reflected it back towards the Awoken girl. Ash had no choice but to intercept it, leaping and being blown backwards by her own tainted light reconnecting with her. It was hers, but it felt … different. Wrong.

She turned in horror to see another assailant land from above behind Talia, this one much broader shouldered. The girl stumbled backwards momentarily, then reached forward and swung her dagger at them. Raising a hand, blue light appeared around the Awoken girl and froze her in place. With another wave, she was tossed backwards and over their shoulder.

"TALIA!" Ash screamed in fear for her niece. Pushing herself up, she crouched and launched herself like a missile towards the man who'd dared harm the girl, her body crackling with arc energy. Slamming into their back, she took great satisfaction in watching them blast forward and skid across the street as they tumbled without control.

"I told you to run!" she shouted, running to Talia and pulling her onto her feet. When she was stable, the Exo shoved her towards an alleyway. "I'll be fine, now go!"

Truthfully, she had no idea whether she'd come out of this fight or not- but her niece wouldn't leave her side otherwise, and risking Talia's life was not an option.

Before either could continue, Ash felt something not unlike a ton of bricks slamming into her. She had no time to react, her prone form rocketing backwards and crashing into the side of a building. The wall came apart from the impact, and it crumbled on top of her.

She looked at her arms, the vestiges of arc energy dissipating as they made their last rounds traveling up and down her armor. Again, it felt like her own light had been redirected into her- but twisted somehow, not quite pure anymore.

Groaning, she clawed her way forward and out of the rubble. The two aggressors moved in on her, their steps slow and heavy.

Rising to a knee, she pushed herself to her limits and summoned a flaming hammer in her right hand as her body ignited into flame. She threw it at the leaner one while she charged the other.

They caught the hammer by the handle, almost stopping its momentum completely in an instant. Something black left their fingers and infused itself with the weapon before they tossed it to her current target. Catching it easily, her would-be victim swung it in a backhanded arc right as she came within range. The ensuing shockwave of light against light was enough to knock her off course and send her sailing right into the middle of the street.

"Ugh …" was all she could say as waves of pain rippled across every inch of her body. Parts of her armor had been completely broken off, and her helmet had been cracked to the point of almost falling off. Feebly tearing it away, she ran a hand over her face and felt various edges and dents from the broken metal that had manifested as a result of her beatdown.

The patter of feet running to her side told her Talia still had not heeded her warning. "Auntie, please …"

"Save … yourself," Ash managed to choke out, words becoming too difficult to string together. Her mind was swimming from its blow with her corrupted hammer. She could barely keep her sight focused, let alone fight these two off for much longer.

"I won't leave you!" Talia cried, holding tightly onto the Exo.

Suddenly, a shadow descended upon them, putting itself between them and their attackers. Landing lightly their back them, they turned slightly to look at Talia.

"You heard your aunt," Aria spoke firmly, her voice low. "Go."

Finally, it seemed that sense made its way through to Talia. Listening to her mother, she turned and ran in the opposite direction towards the outskirts where the safe-point was hidden.

The two attackers had stopped moving in on Ash at Aria's arrival. Taking advantage of the moment, the Warlock helped pull her old fireteam member to her feet.

"Looks like I got here just in time," she mused, her lilac hair messy and dirty from fighting. Ash grimaced, holding her side in pain.

"A few minutes ago wouldn't have been so bad."

"Got held up," Aria replied curtly, turning once more to face their white-robed opponents. "Seems that we've got a bit fairer of a matchup now."

Ash only held her fists out in reply, blue lightning beginning to emanate from them. Aria mirrored her action, her hands producing flames which she prepared to wield against their assailants.

Before they could engage, however, a third adversary joined the two white demons. Unlike the other two, however, they weren't dressed in a brilliant white. Instead, they wore a heavy winter cloak which trailed off their back and much of their front. Underneath it, they wore yellow and blue dressings- the colors of the Trinary Star.

But what was most disconcerting was their head- instead of a helmet, they simply wore a mask carved from the skull of a stag over the front of their face.

"Who are you?" Aria called, her breathing unsteady. They cocked their head to one side and stared, those empty skull sockets boring directly into the two of them.

"Ten years … were they enough to forget my voice?"

Ash heard Aria nearly choke in recognition- she herself found her arms becoming weak as a loud buzzing began to overtake her mind. It couldn't be- not like this …

The Stag chuckled quietly.

" _Let us talk."_

* * *

 _ **A/N: Had to split this one up into two chapters, was getting to be too long.**_

 _ **Please review the chapter, your thoughts always help me to improve.**_

 _ **Until the next time,**_

 _ **\- Matteoarts**_


	26. Crepuscule

Mathias and Shiro-4 tried to pry the doors of the elevator open, Seraph having only been able to channel enough power to get them near the top. When their combined strength wasn't enough to overcome the mechanism, the former decided it was time for desperate measures.

"Stand back," he ordered, holding open his hand and letting the worn grip of his Hawkmoon materialize within it. Holding it forward, he let out a single shot which was more than adequate to shatter the doors.

Shiro held his arms up to shield his face from the glass, waiting for it to plunk against the walls and floor before moving forward to join Matt on the other side.

"Which floor are we on?" the Exo asked him. He glanced around.

"I think we're a couple floors under the courtyard. Should be some stairs around here-"

A gunshot rang out, loud and somewhere above them. The two were instantly on alert, holding their respective hand-cannons out in front of them as Matt darted towards what he believed was where the stairwell was located. Their footsteps echoed throughout the hall, the only sound in the otherwise silent interior.

The situation didn't look good- the walls were riddled with bullets and adorned with the occasional splatters of blood. What was worse were the bodies slumped against the wall or lying on the floor, unmoving. Some of them were dressed in the signature black and white of task force armor, others were Guardians. Shiro stooped down to examine one, his own Ghost- one with a bronze and white patterned shell- floating forward to perform a scan.

"They're Guardians," he muttered, stating the obvious. "But … why haven't they been revived? Where are their Ghosts?"

Shiro was raising some good questions, and unfortunately Mathias didn't have any answers. After another second or two of pondering, he jerked his head towards their objective. "Come on, we won't find any answers down here."

Shiro sighed in agreement. "I know. But now, I'm starting to wonder if we should even look for them …"

The duo resumed their run down the corridor, finally reaching the stairwell. With no time to waste, they entered and began ascending three steps at a time. The smell of smoke became stronger the higher up they went until there was a visible cloud of ash that hung stagnant in the air, permeating their olfactory senses and smelling of death.

Neither said a word now, instead opting to keep their weapons close and move stealthily towards the courtyard. Matt passed by a door which he recognized as his old quarters back when he'd lived in the tower- it brought back much more pleasant memories of this place than he was going to have of it after this event.

Reaching the end of the hall, they made their way out onto a balcony overlooking the courtyard. There wasn't much to be seen anymore- no fighting, no gunshots- it was simply a scene of pure destruction.

The kiosks had been blown apart, their ruins lying in heaps on the ground. The Hall of Guardians entrance had almost completely caved in from the stairs left and right of it crumbling to pieces from a lack of stable foundation. And the bodies … scores of corpses littered the ground, some of them mangled beyond repair.

"What the hell is this?" Shiro murmured, his voice tight with tension. Matt could tell the other Hunter was on edge, not used to seeing this much bloodshed in one place- especially not without dead enemy forces alongside their own. The only surviving Guardians seemed just as lost as they were, trying to pick their way through to rubble to look for other survivors or simply waiting to be helped as they laid there, wounded.

This hadn't been a fight- it'd been a massacre.

"This was a mistake," Matt breathed, his throat constricting from a combination of the smoke and the terror snaking its way towards his heart.

In spite of his words, he couldn't just abandon his comrades. Leaping over the railing of the balcony, he landed on the ground and made his way over to a dying task force agent, seemingly a Titan, leaning against what was left of the postmaster's stand.

"What happened here?" he questioned sharply, knowing the man wouldn't last long in his state- but he needed answers fast. "Who did this?"

Slowly, they fixed him with a hollow stare, their helmet masking any expression they might be making underneath it.

"… _Run … protect … Ghost …"_

That was all they managed to eek out before their neck lost its strength, and they slumped into a position they'd never rise from again.

"That doesn't sound ominous at all," Shiro remarked dryly. Matt was about to ask him what he think the Titan meant by that-

" _Guardians in the courtyard!"_

The voice came from behind them, and the two quickly spun around to face the new threat. What they weren't expecting to see was a squad of task force agents moving in, guns leveled at them and the other survivors in the courtyard.

" _Halt! You will be detained and summarily-"_

Whatever they would have 'summarily' been, they didn't find out. The black and white clad group was unexpectedly disintegrated by the void energy of a nova bomb which sailed over Shiro and Matt's heads to detonate right in the middle of them.

Once again, the two Hunters performed a double take to look for their savior. Running up behind them were two others dressed in task force gear, only adding to the immense confusion they felt. One was a Warlock, the other a Titan. As they approached, they both removed their helmets.

"Are you alright?"

"Eager," Matt realized, elation rising in him, "Dawn! You two are okay?"

"Barely," she replied, pointing out the various marks and chinks in their armor. "It's a bloodbath up here."

Eager nodded, his electric eyes wide with stress. "It's the Star- they're killing off Guardians here and in the city. The task force is corrupt, it must've been infiltrated by them a while back- don't trust anyone, they gun down those who surrender to them."

"How is this happening?" Shiro questioned. "What about the Ghosts- where are they? Why aren't they reviving Guardians?"

Dawn shook her head slightly, her disbelief of the situation all too apparent on her face. "We've caught a glimpse of these figures- all dressed in white and blue- walking throughout the tower. Whoever they are, they're absurdly powerful- they've been executing Guardians left and right with almost no effort."

Eager shared her hollow expression. "We think they're destroying the Ghosts- systematically killing them to prevent any resurrections."

Matt's breath caught in his throat. No Ghosts meant they'd be back to having one life … a death sentence for a Guardian.

"We need to leave," he said, " _now."_

Dawn stared at him emptily. "L-Leave? What about looking for other survivors, the wounded? We can't just abandon them-"

" _Look around you,"_ he hissed. "This is what the Trinary Star has been waiting for all these years- all of us in the same place where they can kill us in one fell swoop."

Eager looked mortified. "My god, he's right. They have the city under their thumb, this is exactly what they've wanted from the start- we've got no chance against them."

"We can't help them," Matt iterated, his voice low. "The only thing we can do now is _run."_

" _No- the choice to flee is no longer yours."_

The quartet barely had enough time to face their adversary before an arc beam blasted their feet and sent them flying into the midst of the courtyard. They recovered quickly enough, rolling into defensive positions as the newcomer approached them.

Just as Dawn had said, they wore brilliantly shining white robes and garments which were decorated with highlights of blue on their armor and wrappings. They swirled their hands about, walking as they held an orb of energy between their fingertips.

"You cling to hope desperately," they drawled, stepping closer all the while. "You revere it as your salvation, your ally- but now you see that it has deserted you."

"So long as a Guardian still breathes, hope lives!" Dawn spat at them, her body surrounding itself with void energy as she conjured up a shield. Eager followed her example, as did Shiro; the Warlock's arms began to hum with electricity and Shiro's hand cannon began to give off heat as his body became engulfed in flames. Mathias drew his knife, its blade turning blue from the elemental arc coursing through his body and into it.

"Indeed. It's a truth that will soon be corrected," their opponent replied uncaringly.

Without warning, the orb shot another beam towards them. Dawn raised her shield, barely managing to lunge forward and take on most of the force as the others flanked around her to engage. Shiro had a clear shot, and fired his golden gun.

Its landed its mark perfectly on target- right into the waiting hand of their attacker. Channeling the solar energy of the shot into the orb, the arc energy assaulting Dawn suddenly became solar and it blew her backwards off her feet with the power behind it.

 _What the hell?_ It was almost like their enemy had redirected Shiro's golden gun blast into Dawn, using his own light against her.

There was no time to dwell on the fact as their foe gave them no quarter. Eager and Matt moved forward to engage, both fully charged with arc elemental energy. The Warlock unleashed the full power of his storm-trance into them as the Hunter came from behind and drove his arm forward in a clean swipe across their back.

Any other being would have been sliced in half from his blade, let alone charred beyond recognition from the electricity streaming into them. But seemingly without worry, they merely held their arms wide towards Eager, allowing his attack to flow into them, and then channeled it behind them in a precise pulse that launched Matt into the air until he came down with a resounding _smack_ on his back.

The air was completely driven from his lungs- not just from the hard fall, but from the shockwave of Eager's attack being rerouted into him. He'd been right- somehow, their adversary was able to wield their own light as a weapon against them, tainting it with their own abilities. It was no longer purely light, but neither was it dark- instead, it seemed to be … _both._

He watched as Eager lifted a hand and summoned a flaming dawnblade within it. Casting it down at the assailant from above, he was nonplussed as they waved their arms and dissipated the sword into an abstract wave of solar flame. Channeling it through them, they sent it back at Eager and engulfed him in a sphere of fire which shrank and elicited howls of pain from the Exo as his own light torched him.

It finally combusted, sending the Warlock backwards where he came to rest next to Dawn, his body scorched and smoking. He didn't move.

" _Seraph,"_ he whispered quietly, _"I need you to do something."_

Shiro was left alone to fend off the assassin now. "That all you got, tough guy? Come on-"

He was cut off in mid-sentence as an unseen projectile of focused void suddenly impaled him from behind. He looked down slowly, staring at the new orifice in his body almost nonchalantly, his mind too busy processing what had just happened to react properly yet.

Two other white figures had appeared behind the Hunter, walking forward until the three of them encircled him. Falling to his knees, Shiro held his chest as the blue gel of Exo blood began to seep through the cracks and drip to the ground.

"Do not fear death, Hunter," one said, their voice distinctly feminine. "Your extinction paves the way for humanity's future."

Shiro looked up slightly to see Matt drawing his gun, preparing to engage. Almost imperceptibly, he shook his head.

 _No._

He froze, realizing the other Hunter was prepared to give his life to save theirs. He was buying them time to escape. Clenching his fists tightly, he nodded in understanding to Shiro and darted towards Dawn and Eager instead.

Sliding into place next to them, he tried to shake them vigorously. "We have to go, _we have to go now-"_

Raising one hand, the third attacker seemed to be pulling something out of Shiro's very chest. The Hunter screamed in pain as they worked until something finally came free- and the assailant held Shiro's bronze and white Ghost securely in his hand, its eye darting about in fear.

"The natural state of the universe is shadow …" they declared, squeezing their hand tighter until cracks began to appear in the Ghost's shell-

In an explosion of raw light and energy, the Ghost shattered. Its pieces fell to the floor next to Shiro, where he stared at them in horror. He only had a second to do so before they kicked him to the ground, and placed their boot over his head.

"… _and the light dies with the Guardians."_

In a sickening crunch of metal and sparking circuits, they pressed their foot down. Shiro's head was obliterated, crushed completely beneath the weight of his killer. More blood began to spill from the tubes within his artificial brain, coating the stone beneath his corpse in a vibrant blue hue.

"What … w-what's-?" Dawn muttered, coming to as Eager struggled to push himself up with Matt's aid. She was next, only standing upright as he looped her shoulder over his neck and lifted her up from where she'd been lying upon the ground.

"Come on, you two aren't dying here-"

"A brave promise."

The three turned towards the other three, their white armor still glistening in an almost pristine condition- it clashed horribly with the scene of chaos and tragedy around them. "But none of you will leave here alive."

"There w-were others who tried t-to kill us before," Eager grunted, making a painful effort simply to stand on his own. "So f-far, we're still here."

" _There are none like us,"_ the first one boomed. "You've lived because we permitted it. _You will die because we command it."_

"You're not the Trinary Star," Matt muttered, realizing that there were far more pieces in play here than he'd realized.

"The Trinary Star is a tool to be used as an extension of our will," one spoke. "Their goals are aligned with ours, for the time being. They will be useful until they are not."

"Who _are_ you?" Dawn asked, her voice barely audible over the sounds of the nearby flames still burning.

" _We are eternal,"_ the one on the left spoke, extending a hand and allowing a spark of void light to drift from it in front of them.

" _We are order,"_ the rightmost individual continued, following their companion's example and sending forth a spark of solar light to join it where the two merged.

Finally, the one in the center channeled a mote of arc light through their fingers into the growing orb- it shone brilliantly with white-hot energy which expanded and threatened to burn them away until they were nothing. The trio cried out in agony as they felt their very essence being ripped from them.

" _We are the Nine."_

* * *

 _ **A/N: Okay, I underestimated how long this flashback sequence would be, probably one more chapter of this**_


	27. The Balance

_Throughout our history, there have been rumors of an individual or group of individuals who have had a hand in influencing the fabric of our civilization. None know of who they are, or even if they exist- though there do exist a number of theories as to what their nature might entail;_

 _\- The Nine are survivors of the cis-Jovian colonies who made a compact with an alien force to ensure their own survival._

 _\- The Nine are deep-orbit warminds who weathered the Collapse in hardened stealth platforms._

 _\- The Nine are ancient leviathan intelligences from the seas of Europa or the hydrocarbon pits of Titan._

 _\- The Nine arrived in a mysterious transmission from the direction of the Corona-Borealis supercluster._

 _\- The Nine are the firstborn Awoken and their minds now race down the field lines of the Jupiter-Io flux tube._

 _\- The Nine are Ghosts who pierced the Deep Black without a ship and meditated on the hissing silence of the heliopause._

 _\- The Nine are the aspects of the Darkness, broken by the Traveler's rebuke, working to destroy us from within._

 _\- The Nine is a viral language of pure meaning._

 _\- The Nine are the shadows left by the annihilation of a transcendent shape, burned into the weft of what is._

 _Some of these seem to be easily discounted, many doubting the validity of claims such as 'a viral language' and 'shadows left by the annihilation of a transcendent shape'. But one must remember that these are forces beyond any of our understanding, and we may not even be capable of comprehending what they truly are, if they were to exist._

 _The Nine could be one, several, none, or all of the listed ideas put forth. The fact is that we do not know, and we will never know … unless they want us to._

 _ **\- A recovered data fragment from the memories of a dead Ghost**_

* * *

White, blinding, searing pain. It was the only sensation he knew- every inch of his body's nerves were engulfed in the paralyzing sensation of burning alive.

The seconds ticked on, and ever so slowly, the torment began to subside. His body quaked from the torture he'd just endured, his limbs shaking ever so unsteadily as he struggled simply to push himself off the ground, and even that was a herculean effort.

"… _Mathias …"_

He looked to his right and saw Dawn in a similar position as him. Her eyes met his, wide and frightened- they begged him for reassurance.

He wished he could provide it.

A meter or two to his left, Eager groaned as he rose to his feet. His armor was singed and broken in various places, wisps of smoke rising from its surface. Matt imagined that he and Dawn looked rather similar as they still reeled from the effects of whatever that energy orb had been. Raising his head weakly, he watched as the three who called themselves 'the Nine' approached them, each step methodical and quiet- though they might as well have been thunderclaps amidst the ringing in his head.

None of them appeared to be affected by what they'd just unleashed on the three Guardians, they didn't even look fazed. He realized that their words had been true- they were something else entirely, something far beyond anything he or any of the Legends had faced before.

The Warlock and Titan glanced to him for guidance, advice on how to proceed. He was supposed to be their leader, their protector … their guardian. His vow wasn't just to protect the city, but to protect his team, his _family._

Now …he didn't know how.

Dawn saw the empty look on his face, and realized what Matt already had- they'd already lost. All of the other Guardians were dead- both here and in the city, or they would be soon. The Trinary Star would take over, and humanity would serve whatever purpose the Nine intended for them now …

 _No._

A small voice within her rejected that future. Something stirred inside her, something so small- yet, so bright it could create entirely new worlds if kept alive.

 _Hope._

For so many years, the Legends and other Guardians had stood as an icon for the remnants of humanity, a living beacon of hope for others to hold onto in the darkest nights- and she was sure that there would be others in the coming days.

 _This_ was why the Traveler had chosen them- not because they were imbued with light, but because they _sought it out._ They never stopped fighting to escape the blackness the universe threw them into- all because they had _hope._

She switched her gaze from Matt to Eager, and saw the same look of determination upon the other Exo's face mirroring her own. They had no misconceptions of what was about to take place … they knew that death was quickly approaching.

But if they held onto their faith, if they gave humanity something to hope _for …_ then maybe those deaths would mean something.

Lifting a knee up, she planted her foot firmly and grunted as she used it to leverage herself into a standing position. The Nine seemed to prepare themselves for another attack, one which they'd easily repel as they had the first time.

None came.

Instead, Eager and Dawn looked back at Matt for a moment as he stared at them confusedly- he reached out to them, wanting to stand with them for whatever they were about to do.

She gave him a soft smile, the most she could manage given the context of the situation.

 _I'm sorry, old friend … but you won't stand with us today. You're the only one who can stop them. You must live on … the fight is now yours alone, and I know you won't lose._

Turning back to the Nine, she and Eager stood firmly in defiance of the Nine.

"The Guardians without a Ghost … we know of you," the one in front intoned, tilting their hooded head slightly. "You are among the Legends who have risen against the Darkness in years past. Your reputation precedes you, but you will not turn us away so easily."

"Maybe you're r-right," Eager coughed, a wad of blue blood making its way past his mouth and spattering on the ground. "Maybe we c-can't beat you. But just like she said- so long as one of us is still b-breathing … _we're sure as hell gonna give it our all."_

The two on the left and right of the white-clad killers raised their hands and curled their fingers, levitating Eager and Dawn into the air and pulling them closer. The Warlock and Titan hung in the air at the mercy of their captors.

"You already have," they continued, staring up at the two Guardians. _"And it wasn't enough."_

They let the two of them fall to the ground, both of them collapsing on their hands and knees. The left individual stepped forward and wrapped their hand around Eager's neck, lifting him up until his feet were no longer touching the ground.

Even now, the Warlock remained determined and steadfast- an expression of contentment overtaking all others. "… But it _will_ be."

They gave no response as they slowly tightened their grip, much like they'd done with Shiro's Ghost. Matt reached out weakly, unable to do anything but watch in horror as he was forced to witness his friend's execution.

As he died, Eager's face never once gave way to fear or anger- instead, he maintained a dignified acceptance of what was happening, at peace with his fate.

The noise of crushing metal grew ever prevalent; and with a sickening metallic screech, Eager's neck gave in to the pressure. His head and body separated, the latter of which falling in a heap to the floor as his killer held onto the head and analyzed it like one would an amusing toy. Turning their gaze towards Matt, they tossed it in front of him.

It clattered loudly as it rolled towards him, coming to a stop against his right arm. Eager's green eyes still shone momentarily with the glow of life behind them- then they dimmed, fading out to a dull grey.

Dawn had made her way to her feet once more, her back to the Nine as she looked on aghast at what had just transpired. Matt tore his gaze away from Eager's head to meet Dawn's similarly vacant expression, not noticing the white-robe stepping closer to her from behind, lighting their hand with void energy, and swiping it across her waistline in a clean arc.

She gasped in surprise at the sensation, not quite in pain- but still feeling as though something wasn't right. She glanced down to see nothing immediately wrong with her- but as she looked on, she watched as blue blood began to seep from a thin line that cut across the entirety of her abdomen from one side to the other.

Slowly, Dawn raised her head to look back at her friend who seemed to be mouthing wordlessly to her, saying her name over and over. She realized that a ringing noise was beginning to overtake her hearing, and her sight began to fade as the corners of her vision closed in.

"… _I … h-hope …"_

It was all she managed to mutter before she toppled over, the two halves of her body splitting apart and falling to the ground. Her upper half landed just a few feet from him, her eyes darting around unknowingly as her systems began to shut down.

With nothing left to do, Matt reached out and grabbed her hand, holding it tightly within his own. His friend sensed the action, and ceased her struggling. He watched as her countenance became gentle, softly smiling in his comfort as her blue eyes similarly followed suit to Eager's … fading … fading …

In a moment, she was gone.

He continued to hold her hand after the fact, unable to function correctly for the time being. His mind had nearly shut itself down in an effort to process what was happening. Death surrounded him, it was _inside him-_

 _Ash._

 _He had to find them. Her, Aria, Talia … he had to save them-_

"The Stag warned us of you," the center of the Nine spoke again. "These lives were ours to take, but _you …_ you are his alone."

Without warning, they drew their hand backwards and swung it forward. A blast of the same white-hot energy from before blew him into the air and sent him careening off the tower's edge.

The silhouette of his falling body remained visible until it fell beneath the cloud of smoke and ash rising from the ground. The emissaries of the Nine watched as it disappeared into the void below, becoming one with the burning city.

This night, both the city and Hunter would break.

—X—

He wasn't sure when he woke up, or even if he woke up- for all he knew, he'd been crawling on this broken road for his entire life.

 _Have to find them._

Dragging himself forward, his hands had become mere claws with which to perform the task. Everything else had been forgotten in the wake of his new singular goal that overshadowed every other in his mind.

 _Save them._

This was all he was. This was all he would ever be.

Somehow, a mote of recognition made its way into his mind as a patch of smoke cleared and he saw the corner of his and Ash's flat. With renewed energy, he clutched his chest as he made the effort to stand. He stumbled forward, hurriedly trying to make it there and praying that Ash and Talia were inside-

He froze as the dust continued to clear, revealing the scene laid out for him in the middle of the street. Lying haplessly on the ground were Ash and Aria, their bodies battered and broken. Behind them stood two of the Nine, bearing the same white robes that the ones in the tower had- and in between them stood a figure heavily clad in black and sporting a mask carved from a stag skull.

"Ah, the Hunter arrives!" they called out, opening their arms wide in a gesture of mock welcoming.

Matt paid them no mind, his focus entirely on his two best friends who laid unmoving at his enemy's feet. Pushing himself forward, he tripped and fell next to them, his hand scrabbling over them as he checked them over.

Ash's face plates had been marked and broken from being beaten within an inch of her life. Blue ichor was spilling onto the ground from several injuries she'd sustained, none so obvious as the gaping hole in her stomach. Every so feebly, her eyes winked on and stared at him. Her mouth twisted itself into the ghost of a smile.

"… _M-Matt?"_

"I'm here," he whispered, stroking his thumb along the dented ridge of her cheek. She reached a weak hand up, brushing away the grime and dirt from his sweat-slicked face so that she could reciprocate.

Setting her hand down for the moment, he checked Aria next; all the while, the emissaries of the Nine and the Stag watched him without care.

The Awoken woman's face was lined with cuts and bruises, her indigo blood smeared across her forehead and drops of it staining her robes. She heard his movement, and looked at him from the corner of her eyes.

"H-Hey … you've s-seen better d-days …"

He clasped her hand tightly, sensing the fading strength in her fingertips. The two of them had barely spoken for ten years, a rift growing between them after the incident … after the choice he'd been forced to make.

And only now were they talking again- when both were nearly on their deathbed.

"How touching," the Stag sneered, stepping forward and kicking Matt backwards without warning. He reeled from the blow, falling onto his back and hurriedly rolling over in an attempt to right himself. "It's refreshing to see you care for someone other than yourself."

That voice … it sounded eerily familiar. "Who … are you? Why are you doing this?"

"I told you I'd return," they said, lifting their hands up to the sides of their mask. "If only you had heeded my warnings …"

They undid the clasps and pulled it away from their face. Matt balked at the reveal- deep down, he was fairly sure he'd known who it was from the beginning … but only now as he stared into the face of someone he hadn't seen for ten years did he accept it.

"Cerin."

He'd grown over the years, his jaw becoming more pronounced and several light scars having been gained in his decade of exile- but Matt knew that mop of brown hair and those bright hazel eyes anywhere.

"Once, I may have been," he replied, fixing his father-figure with a look of hatred at the mention of his name. "But that name died a long time ago, along with the man who carried it."

Mathias swallowed hard, the painful memories of ten years ago surfacing in his mind. "Cerin, please-"

In an instant, he was thrown backwards once more. A burst of solar energy slammed into the center of his chest and sent him skidding across the cobblestone.

"I am the Stag," he spat, placing the mask back on his head. "Leader of the Trinary Star, slayer of Guardians … and harbinger of peace."

"Look around you!" Matt moaned, feeling more lost than he ever had before. "You think this is peace? This _genocide_ you've brought on us-?"

"You're a fool!" the Stag roared at the Hunter. "The scales of Light and Dark have tipped precariously for far too long- the Nine helped me see that! My deeds tonight have restored _balance!"_

Reaching down, he grabbed Aria by the neck and dragged her forward before throwing her down to the ground once more. "The only way to secure our future … is to kill our past."

He unholstered a familiar gold-and-silver hand cannon, its metal still shining as brightly as it did when his mother had wielded it. Beckoning to the emissaries with a nod of his head, they walked over to him and presented the prizes clutched tightly in their hands.

 _Whip. Echo._

Leveling the Last Word at them, the Ghosts tried vainly to escape their imprisonment for the few seconds it took for the Stag to pull the trigger. Instantly, the two were blown apart, shards flying every which way as the light within them was expelled violently before dissipating in the air.

Switching his sights back to Aria, the Stag seemed amused as the Warlock frailly rose to her feet and stood facing her son without fear, her forehead placed squarely over the barrel.

"Just … as I am, and will always be … your mother," she rasped, her speech taking whatever strength she had left away from her, "I have loved you as my son … and I will _always_ love you."

She did not beg for mercy, nor did she make any attempt to escape what she knew was coming. Her words seemed to give the Stag pause, forcing him to hesitate for a second. His hand tightened around the handle, the gun shaking ever so slightly.

"… _You're no blood of mine."_

Matt didn't hear the shot that killed her, the rage and loss that had ravaged him today were too powerful to be contained any longer. His roar of anguish drowned it out as he charged forward unthinkingly.

One of the Nine, swung their arm emotionlessly, releasing a wave of arc energy which slammed into him and knocked him back down. He tried to rise again only to receive an excruciating pain in his gut. Instinctively reaching to it, he looked at his hand which came away bloody.

The Stag holstered the Last Word, its barrel still smoking. "No resurrections this time."

Turning around, he started to move before something caught his eye. He stood there thoughtfully, turning his gaze towards Ash's broken body. "I'll grant you a peaceful death alongside each other … I owe you two that much."

With that, he and the Nine walked away and disappeared into the fog.

Collapsing to the ground, he began to desperately crawl on hands and knees towards the two people closest in the world to him, barely noticing the pain of the bullet in his stomach as he did so. He couldn't bear to look at Aria, her body lying still upon the ground where the Stag had let her fall.

Ash was barely holding onto life, the bright electric-blue of her eyes beginning to flicker in and out of illumination. Reaching under her, he lifted her head and shoulders up onto his knee and simply held her there.

"I'm so s-sorry," he choked out. "I … I-"

"N-Not … your … f-fault … my love," she breathed, struggling to get all of her words out. He couldn't respond, sobs beginning to wrack his body and keep him from speaking.

Her hand found his, and took hold of it tightly. He reciprocated, trying to give her every last comfort he could before … before …

"Y-You … have t-to … run …" she gasped in pain, her grip around his hand tightening momentarily.

"I'm n-not going anywhere," he replied, rejecting the notion shaking his head vigorously. "I'm n-not abandoning you!"

"You're .. t-the last … Hunter," she continued, her strength fading. "Only … y-you can … can s-still … save …"

"Ash, stay w-with me! _Stay with me!"_ he urged, refusing to let her slip away. He'd lost so much already, he wasn't about to lose her too-

"It's okay," she whispered. "It's okay … _it's okay …"_

Lifting her other hand up, she held Matt's face and brought her own closer to his. She placed her lips over his, the two of them sharing one last kiss as the end drew nearer.

" _I ... I love …"_

" _I love you too."_

Her eyes shone brightly at him, her cheeks stained with his tears as they ran down and off his chin. Despite everything that had happened, she still wore a smile on her face as she gazed into his, his face the last thing that she … she would … see …

With one final flicker, the bright blue light disappeared from her eyes.


	28. The Hope

_In the waning hours of night, as the golden light of Sol began to rise over the horizon, a Ghost flies unnoticed through the burning city._

 _No reaction from her is given for the horrific scene around her, the refuge she'd once called home now reduced to cinders. Her task had been simple, but almost impossible to follow. When her Guardian had given the command, she had known that this was truly the end._

" _ **Run."**_

 _And so she had run. She had hidden herself among the rubble, darting from shadow to shadow as the Guardian-killers murdered those she had come to call family. And she had waited- that was the hardest part. Forcing herself to do nothing, to leave the others to die as she knew full-well that she would be killed alongside them if she acted._

 _It is as the first ray of sun stretched over the city that she finally finds her Guardian again- lying still in the road next to the ones he loved, the ones who had embraced him as a brother when he had no home to call his own. The remnants of their Ghosts lay shattered in the dirt, devoid of their light._

 _But not hers._

 _ **Forgive me,**_ _she thinks, as she works to resurrect her partner, her other half … her Guardian. Death cannot take him to the weeds yet._

 _For there is vengeance to be taken, and no one else to give it._

* * *

"My uncle barely made it out alive," Talia finishes, her eyes wet from reliving her memories of that night. "And with each day that passes, he wishes that he hadn't."

"I … I understand now," Clara murmured, her voice soft. "I can't imagine what it must be like for him."

"At one point, you probably knew firsthand," the Queen pointed out. "You wiped your memory when the Guardians died, remember? You chose to forget the pain- but that's not an option he can take."

Startlingly, the Exo realized she was right. If she had truly never wiped before the death of the Guardians, then it meant that for the entirety of her existence- even crises like the Taken War and the SIVA nightmare- she had held onto hope that things would one day work themselves out.

Knowing that it had taken the Trinary Star's coup of the city to finally destroy her faith to the point of attempted suicide meant that she had endured a pain like no other … the pain that Woods was forced to live with for every moment of each day.

"What's more," Talia continued, "is that he blames himself. Not just for the deaths of Ash and my mother, Dawn and Eager … but for everything."

Clara blinked in shock. "What? Why?"

"The Balance," the Awoken muttered quietly. "Scorch gave birth to him through a blessing bestowed by the Traveler itself … and in doing so, fulfilled the prophecy. She brought about the Balance."

"I … don't get it."

Talia leaned in closer, her eyes locking onto Clara's. "My brother, the Stag, _is_ the Balance."

Clara had no words, no reaction other than a slight parting of her lips.

The other woman hung her head. "He is a dark mirror of Mathias, the Darkness's equal to the Traveler's chosen. The Stag and the Last Hunter … the dark and light perfectly balanced at last." She finished with a note of bitterness, her eyes tired and weary from recounting the tragic tale. But something about what she said caught Clara's attention …

 _The Stag and the Last Hunter … the dark and light perfectly balanced at last._

An idea came to Clara- a burning idea which lit her heart on fire and drove her to stand tall. Talia looked up in surprise at the sudden look of conviction on the Exo's face.

"Then I think it's time we tipped the scales."

—X—

Woods was waiting for them, leaning against a wall next to Amelia and an Awoken Paladin. His arms were crossed and his head was slightly lowered in their direction as they walked into the hangar, so Clara knew full-well that he was not in the best of moods.

"I'm going to take a wild guess and assume that you two are responsible for the fact that I've been denied permission to leave," he snapped, moving away from the wall and walking over to meet them.

"Don't look at me," Talia answered with a shrug, "it was her call."

"And is there a halfway-decent explanation as to _why?"_ he asked pointedly, still sounding less than pleased about the situation. "I believe I made my stance very clear-"

"I'm coming with you."

Woods turned to Clara now, his expression hidden behind his helmet. "No, you're not."

"Yes," Clara replied forcefully, "I _am."_

He stepped forward and glowered at her. She stood her ground, refusing to shrink against his piercing gaze.

"This isn't up for debate, Clara-"

"Like hell it isn't," she cut him off. "What do you expect me to do, just sit here while you go out there and throw your life away?"

"That about sums it up, yeah," he growled.

"And what about everyone else?" she challenged. "What about the people who live in the Star's shadow? What about the Keepers, the descendants of you Guardians who now live in exile from the city?"

"They don't need me-"

"They do," she interrupted once more, "and you know it. Without you, there's no light. Without you, there's no one to lead us to a better tomorrow."

He was silent- whether he was mulling her words over or fuming at her, she didn't know. In any case, she pressed on.

"Talia told me about the prophecy, about the Balance … about Cerin."

Woods body tensed for a moment at the mention of his adopted son's name, and she was sure he was going to lash out- then the fight went out of him. Slumping back against the wall, he hung his head low.

"Then you know why I have to do this."

"No," she spoke softly, "I know why you _can't."_

"Clara," he muttered, "I admire your tenacity- truly. But you know that I can't beat him. He and I are too evenly matched, and then there's the rest of the Trinary Star to worry about."

"And the Nine," Talia added.

Woods' voice became tight. "And … the Nine. To this day, I don't know what they want. But I know what they're capable of … and I can't fight them all. Not alone."

"You won't be alone."

His head lifted up to stare at her again. She met him head on, her eyes glowing with determination. "I will stand with you."

He let out an involuntary laugh, one without humor or mirth. "Right. So one Guardian and an Exo are going to fight the Nine?"

"No."

Something about her tone caught his attention, and he focused more closely on her.

"You and Talia said it yourselves," she continued, waving her hands animatedly as she spoke. "The light and the dark are perfectly balanced- neither side can win over the other so long as both you and the Stag are the only contenders. So … the only way that you can win is if you're no longer the Last Hunter."

She took a deep breath, preparing herself for what came next.

"I will become a Guardian."

Both he and Talia visibly jerked their heads in shock. "What?"

"What?" Ghost yelped, materializing and staring in utter bewilderment at Clara.

"One Guardian can't fight back the Darkness …" She smirked. "But maybe _two_ can."

He was already shaking his head. "No, this is out of the question. You can't just _become_ a Guardian-"

" _You_ did," she argued. "You never chose this life, you were born into it- and you became the greatest of them all. And if my becoming a Guardian is what it will take to fight the Nine and the Star, then so be it."

He stammered, trying to raise counterpoints. "You have no training, no experience-"

"You can teach me!" she urged. "I can learn, I know I can- but you need to give me the chance."

He became quiet and listened to her as she spoke. She could feel the truth behind her words beginning to make its way into his mind.

"Out there, the Nine and the Star have taken control of humanity." She took a step forward and pointed out of the hangar into space. "If you still choose to, you can leave this fight behind. But you can't stop me from taking up the mantle- I _will_ stand against them, with or without you."

Her chest heaved deeply, the combination of her excitement and apprehension leaving her breathless. There was a long pause where no words were spoken, no sound was made- slowly, all eyes turned towards the Hunter and awaited his response.

He stood there, the two sides of their debate warring with one another in his head. At long last, as he looked back up to face Clara, it seemed that one had emerged victorious.

"You've got one hell of a way with words- you know that, right?"

She grinned, feeling elation flood through her.

"Hold on just a second," Ghost called out, hovering up in front of her face. "Are you serious about this? I just raised you from the dead, and you're already planning to join them again?"

"If you join me, I won't have to," she pointed out. "I need you with me, Ghost- this won't work otherwise."

The little machine seemed conflicted, his fins and segments flexing and rotating nervously. "I … I want to help, but … I don't want to see you get hurt."

"Then help me," she shot back. "What are you going to do back on Earth- run from the Star for the rest of your life? Or do you want to do something about it?" She crossed her arms and raised her brow. "We can become what we were always meant to be- a Guardian and their Ghost against the Darkness. I know this is my destiny- what's yours?"

He hung there in the air, pondering what she had to say.

"… Oh, alright- fine, I'm in."

Before she could reply, he moved closer, his body beginning to expand into a bubble which his fins began to rotate and revolve around. "Hold still, this is going to be … odd."

She followed his advice and remained stationary as he began to glow white, the blue giving way to blinding illumination. Steadily, he continued inching closer and closer, and she struggled not to move as a burning sensation began to spread across her form- she could feel something powerful, something ancient beginning to stir within her. Not her physical body, what with the various tubes and machinery that gave her figure- but in her _soul._

 _The Light lives in all places … in all things._

It penetrated deep within her heart, breathing life into a fire that she hadn't known had been raging inside her all this time- every one of her senses ignited simultaneously, overloading her with its presence.

 _You can block it … even try to trap it. But the Light will find its way._

She knew then that this was what had been meant for her. Call it an accident that Ghost had found her out in the snow and revived her, call it a mistake … call it fate. Whatever it was, it had lead her here to this single moment where the Balance of Light and Dark would hinge on her actions.

 _Devotion inspires Bravery. Bravery inspires sacrifice. Sacrifice … leads to death. This is what it means to be a Guardian._

A final blast of energy emanated from her, and the blinding glow vanished from the air. She fell to her knees, gasping for breath as the feeling of pure, raw power subsided. Ghost seemed just as shaken as she was, his flight slightly erratic as he analyzed her to make sure she was okay.

She heard footsteps as someone approached her. She looked up to see Woods kneeling beside her, and she could sense a smile behind his helmet as he spoke.

"Eyes up, Guardian."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Been a while since I last updated, busy as always with work and other projects. We're finally getting to the meat of the story, where everything in the present begins to come together.**_

 _ **As always, I appreciate any reviews you guys send my way- love reading your thoughts!**_

 _ **Until the next time,**_

 _ **\- Matteoarts**_


	29. Rebirth

_One week as a Guardian._

At first, she'd been ecstatic- the idea that she and Woods were going to be finally taking the fight to the Trinary Star was certainly an exciting one, and despite the rigorous physical training routine that the Hunter had laid out for her, Clara was more than enjoying herself.

That is, until he blew a hole through her chest.

It had been unexpected, sudden, and very painful- there was no other sensation quite like looking down and finding a brand new orifice in your body. After a few seconds of staring at it in shock, she'd felt herself begin to drift away … farther … farther …

There was nothing.

…

And then there was _something_ again, and she heaved as her body buckled from the sudden sensation of being alive once more.

"Are you okay?!" Ghost cried in a horrified manner. She had no words for him- all of her focus was on the man in front of her, and she imagined all of her rage manifesting into a physical force that could crush him and his nonchalant expression where he stood.

"… _What the actual fu-"_

"First rule about being a Guardian," Woods remarked to her, still looking as though he could not care less, _"Guardians die._ A _lot_. So, you better get used to it."

She bristled at his explanation. "You could have given a little warning," she growled.

He continued as though he didn't hear her, and pointed at Ghost. "But death isn't the end for us- our Ghosts keep us tethered to life, able to bring us back from beyond the grave and allow us to fight on. That brings us to the second rule- _protect your Ghost._ If your Ghost dies, _you_ die."

"If you try that again, _someone's_ gonna die."

He raised his eyebrows and gave her a slight smirk. "That's good- a little anger goes a long way." He nodded towards her hands, now balled into fists. "Take a look."

Still glowering, she followed his gaze- her face lost all traces of its furious expression as she saw the tiniest of sparks dancing around her fingertips, embers of a fire that had yet to burn.

"The Light lives in all things," he said softly, watching the sparks as she did, though with a lesser intensity. "But as Guardians, we can actually _see_ it, _feel_ it within ourselves … and _use it."_

With a single motion of his hand, electricity began to crackle in its palm. It had appeared quickly and easily, the effort seemingly no more than what it would take for him to snap his fingers. Little arcs of lightning traveled up the gaps of his digits as they acted like forks, conducting the electrical bolts as comfortably as metal.

Her jaw dropped in awe, her eyes lit up in wonder, and her fury was forgotten. She looked at her own hand suddenly, and glared at it as she tried to shape the motes of energy through sheer will alone.

"Not yet," Woods chuckled, reaching out a hand and covering hers gently. "It takes a while to get to that point- but we _will_ get there."

Nodding acceptingly at his assurance, she focused back on him as his face lowered. "Others have tried to use the light- to corrupt it, to simulate it, take it for themselves … none have succeeded. And so, that leaves the final rule."

He sighed, closing his eyes.

"The Light is a _gift._ It cannot be taken, only given to those it chooses. It cannot be destroyed … though those who wield it can." He opened his eyes. "It is a blessing, and a curse- one of responsibility. Never abuse its power, or it will leave you in darkness."

"The Stag," she muttered.

He nodded, his jaw tightening. "I refused to see that Cerin was already dead when I met him again- his soul had been corrupted by desire of the Darkness, and his mind twisted by the teachings of the Nine. All that's left is the Stag … a hollow shell of his identity as empty as the skull he wears to conceal it."

"Is there any hope he could be saved?"

"No."

The Hunter spoke with absolute certainty- he had no misgivings about his nephew. "He's too far gone, too convinced that his path is the right one."

"So why haven't you killed him?"

A quiet, mirthless snicker met her audio receptors. "Hope, as frail as it may be, is quite hard to kill."

The two of them sat in silence for a minute or two. Eventually, Woods beckoned for her to follow him.

"Come on. It's time you learned how to fight."

—X—

 _Two months as a Guardian._

She panted heavily, cursing Clovis Bray for giving the Exos the same weaknesses as humans. For example; breathing.

Her artificial lungs burned as the deep inhalation sucked cold air into her chest where it bit at her throat and internal machinery- the snow threatened to invade her servos, and she was continually scraping ice from her joints to keep them from freezing over.

"Your speed is improving," Woods called to her, watching from a few meters away. He gestured at the targets in front of her. "Your aim, however, still leaves a bit to be desired."

Her endurance had greatly increased over her time with Woods, training here on Earth at his hidden cottage. Morning runs were a daily occurrence, and the Hunter was quite adamant about her keeping her neuro-sensors on. She had come to realize that her endurance was not so much a matter of physical fitness, as she had no muscle mass to grow, but a matter of mental discipline. The stinging cold was a cakewalk compared to the excruciating routine that normally came after; combat training.

First had been hand-to-hand combat, the one that Woods had deemed most important; _A weapon is a useful tool- and a crutch. You need to know what to do if you find yourself unarmed._ She understood that well enough, but understanding the concept and being able to execute it had been two very different things.

Woods had centuries of experience when it came to fighting- she'd barely begun to live again before she'd met him. Trying to spar against such an opponent with no previous training was just as grueling a task as it sounded. Every jab to her side, every blow to her face, they made their marks in more ways than the obvious. Slowly but surely, she'd learned to counter incoming attacks, to read a foe's stance and see their intent before they moved, and how to follow up with punishment of her own.

It was over a month before Woods was satisfied enough to begin weapons training. She still had a long way to go in hand-to-hand, but she would continue to learn as her palette expanded. First had been the knife, becoming familiar with using the blade as an extension of her body rather than a simple tool. Despite what she'd initially thought, it was very different from hand-to-hand; in close quarters, every advantage mattered.

Unarmed, your fists gave up defense for offense when attacking, and vice versa when blocking. With a blade, you could parry, deflect, block, and attack all within a movement or two- there was no need to give up any defense when attacking because your attack was simultaneously a deterrent, keeping the opponent at a distance and forcing them back.

Now, she was on the next step- and it irked her to no end. Woods had granted her a compound bow, one of his own design, and instructed her to become proficient with it before moving on to other weapons.

She had thought it would be an easy task- and once again, had been dead wrong. Her strength was fixed- granted, she was naturally strong as an Exo, but she could not improve her brawn as a human could. Thus, Woods set the drawstring at quite a heavy weight to compensate for her natural power; and trying to keep an arrow accurate while struggling to pull back the string was a task and a half.

She looked at what he had pointed out- none of her arrows had missed, a vast improvement from when she'd first started, but they were still a far cry from being consistent in their precision.

Groaning, she made the walk of shame to the target and retrieved her arrows. He wanted her to be quick _and_ accurate, but she felt she could only do one or the other. She could either take her time and hit the mark, or fire quickly and hope for the best.

"Again."

Without hesitation, she nocked an arrow and fired. It landed just within the inner ring of the target, and she felt a renewed sense of confidence within her. Quickly, she drew the string once more and released her second arrow.

It sunk neatly into the outer ring, and she heard a sigh off to her right.

"Stop."

She let loose an angry breath of frustration, one that she hadn't realized had been building up inside her for quite some time.

"I _can't,_ I just can't!" she exploded. "I'd like to see _you_ hit it with this stupid thing-"

Wordlessly, he walked to her side and held his hand out expectantly. She hadn't anticipated such an immediate reaction, and hesitantly placed the bow as well as the arrows into his hand.

No more than a second had gone by before he turned and began firing rapidly at the target, the arrows disappearing faster than her outrage.

He hadn't adjusted the bow's weight, which meant he was using the same tension that she had been- and he was firing _faster._ And once he'd run out of arrows, she was embarrassed to find that he had managed to land every last one within the inner circle.

He turned to face her and set his left hand on her shoulder. "The bow is working fine- the _stupid thing_ that isn't is your attitude."

She looked down, unable to meet his eyes. "Sorry," she muttered.

"Don't apologize," he snapped at her, forcing her to look back up at him. "I'm not looking for excuses."

He held the bow out, offering it back to her. Tentatively, she accepted it.

"You _can_ do this," he told her, his tone making it clear that he wouldn't take no for an answer. "And you _will."_

Silently, she looked back at the target and saw something new instead- no longer was it an obstacle, a roadblock on her journey to being a Guardian …

It was a _challenge._

"Again."

—X—

 _Half a year. Half a goddamn year as a Guardian._

And all for some measly sparks.

"Focus, Clara."

"I _am_ focusing!"

"The results would say otherwise."

She groaned at the pathetic display she'd given as she attempted to channel the light, creating nothing more than the same small embers of light that she had in the first weeks of being a light-bearer, though perhaps they were the slightest bit brighter.

"It's hard- it's like it's fighting me."

Woods grunted in agreement. "Like I've said, the Light can't be tamed. It can be guided, yes, even wielded- but never _controlled."_

"Then what's the point in focusing on trying to control it in the first place?" she muttered glumly, her eyes glaring at the lights dancing around her hand.

He opened his mouth- perhaps to explain, perhaps to lecture her- and closed it just as suddenly. His eyes widened, and his lips parted slightly before shaping into a faint smile.

"You know what? You're right."

Clara's thought process froze altogether, the embers immediately vanishing from sight as she struggled to process exactly what she'd just heard.

"… _What?"_

He stared at her enthusiastically, proving that she'd heard correctly. "You're right- I've been thinking about this wrong, it's been so long since I first learned how to wield the light- how could I not have seen this before?"

She raised a brow-plate in equal parts curiosity and apprehension. "Seen what?"

He took a deep breath, motioned for her to hold her hand out as she had done before, and watched her carefully. "I want you to do exactly the opposite of what I told you- don't focus at all."

"How is _that-"_

"Listen to me without arguing for _once,_ and clear your mind."

She begrudgingly did as he said and tried not to think of anything in particular. She thought of anything but the light in her hand; the snow as it fell without a sound around them, the cold of the wind as it nipped at her back, the distant rumble of thunder as a storm moved in closer …

She definitely wasn't thinking about the light in her hand-

Clara groaned. "Trying _not_ to think about it only makes me think about it more."

He laughed. "That's alright, we're gonna try something else now. Close your eyes."

Obliging, the blue glow of her eyes vanished as she turned off her optics. She saw nothing now, not even blackness- seeing black was still seeing something, she simply saw _nothing._

"I don't want you to focus on using the Light. Just try to _feel_ it."

She ignored the snow, the wind, the thunder … instead, she focused inward, allowing herself to be free of all distractions save for-

 _There._

She felt something warm, but faint. It nestled in her breast comfortably, filling an emptiness she hadn't realized she'd had. She tried to picture what it looked like, what it felt like-

"Feel its power within you."

She _did._ Even from here, with how faint the sensation was, she could sense the raw strength it possessed, hidden from her until now.

" _Let it come to you."_

His words sounded distant now, as though he were far away, but she paid it no mind- she only did as he instructed, reaching out in the void towards the warmth. It sensed her presence, and tried to pull away, retreated from her-

She stopped. She was not here to command it, she had no intention of that- she was here to let it command _her._

Finally, she understood. A Guardian did not simply harness the light- the light worked _through_ them. It was the wielder, and they were its instruments; the relationship was that of companionship- it would protect _her_ , and she would protect _it_.

The warmth had grown, no longer content to remain hidden away in her soul- its heat exploded outward through her body, she could feel its white-hot energy coursing through her limbs and into the air-

" _What do you_ _ **see**_ _?"_

The light within her had taken shape- a burning flame, a crackling spark, a dark void … it was each of these and more, it was a roaring river through which she swam, impossible to control, its might unfathomable- all she could do was flow with it, wherever it might lead her.

"A thousand blades …"

They burned with fire as their edges sought out their enemies' hearts.

"A dancing current …"

The bolt of electricity weaved gracefully through the masses, striking them dead where they stood.

"An unstoppable shadow …"

Unseen, the wraith cleaved through the darkness as though it belonged to it, a reaper of the light.

She saw … she saw …

" _I see_ _ **myself**_ _."_

She gasped, her eyes opening once more and taking in the scene around her. Woods was kneeling in front of her, his face an expression of shock. Clara looked at her hand and mirrored his reaction- blue, orange, and purple beams swirled around it, traveling up and down her arm as comfortably as though they'd always been there.

Her trance now broken, they quickly dissipated into nothingness, and she turned with complete and utter numbness towards Woods. He had no words for a time, astounded at the display he'd just been witness to- and then he gifted her with a look that she hadn't seen very often, and never with this ferocity.

He was proud.

"Welcome to the Light, Hunter."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Yes, I know it's been a while.**_

 ** _I'm back at college now, full-time schedule again- and on top of that, I have plenty of other projects that need attention before this one. To be honest, I'm not even sure how many of you guys are still reading this- it seems like interest has increasingly dried up with each chapter I release. I guess we'll see how much attention this one gets._**

 ** _Thanks for reading, and be sure to leave a review- I always look forward to your reactions and thoughts._**

 ** _Until the next time,_**

 ** _\- Matteoarts_**


End file.
